Ghostwriter
by Izu3039
Summary: Gakuen AU. Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.
1. Chapter 1: Ghostwriter

**A/N:** Idea popped into my head after reading some magazine article. Too bad I forgot the name. Read and review! Even if it sucks! :3

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, the Nordics would get a lot more screen time and PruCan would be canon. Sadly, I don't.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Ghostwriter<strong>

There were five posters in total taped around the school. All said the exact same thing.

"E-MAIL peacekeeper0701 at emailprovider . com"

The teachers were utterly perplexed though they had taken them down immediately. The school cameras had all been mysteriously disabled, and they weren't fixed until school had already resumed the next day. None of the faculty knew what was going on. Not to mention this has already happened three times before the previous semester.

However, for the students it was completely different. Unknown to faculty, there was one student in Hetalia High who was willing to take commissions through email. Commissions to write papers for them. It was odd. All they had to do was email a sample of their writing, transfer some money into an unknown PayFriend account, instructions and due date for the essay, and within a few days a document would be emailed back over. (There was a rule that the email had to be sent withing three days of the due date so he would at least have time to write.) It was amazing how one person had that workload done so easily. As far as everyone knew, no one had ever been turned down by this person unless they wouldn't pay. Delightfully well written as well, and almost in the same style of the student himself or herself. However, due to its shady nature, for some reason the mysterious writer would always post a new email every couple months or so.

They took it for granted. There was a ghostwriter within the mass of people who scrambled out of classrooms as the lunch bell rang. Heck, you might even sit next to him or her one day and not realize s/he was the one that wrote seven of your essays and let you pass your honors classes.

No one knew who started the rumor that there was someone who would write for you, or how the price automatically was set at five dollars per page written. To preserve this luxury, no one let it slip to the teachers yet. But everyone was curious, and when the teachers' ears were turned away, they would discuss it. Who was the mysterious writer that would be willing to do all that work? Eyes scanned classrooms and people came up with suspects with absurd reasons. Top students and poor students were those eyed the most, but no one could prove anything.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, said person marveled at the buzz. Surely by now every student had either snapped a picture of the email with their phones or had a slip of paper in their pocket with the address on it. If a friend missed it, they could always ask someone else. He smiled a bit, since being unknown was the closest he would ever get to being known. Ha. The boy laid his head on his desk and gave a sigh as no one even bothered to consider him the ghostwriter.<p>

It was such a cold word, yet he loved the way it rolled out people's tongues. Even though no one could see him, and even if he was never going to get credit for those countless papers he wrote, he was satisfied being a ghost whom no one would care about. Sometimes he thought of himself somewhat like a ghost that cleaned your kitchen but stole a few pancakes and some maple syrup from your fridge. You wouldn't mind, at least you spared yourself the work.

He didn't even do it for money, just a twisted sense of finally being recognized. It was just something he wanted to try, by whispering in someone's ear and slipping a paper into their pocket. Sure enough, he had gotten a request from that very student and he charged five per page for a six page essay. Apparently that student somehow told his friends, and he had a few more offers for the same essay. Thoughtfully, he requested each one of them for a sample of their writing to not make it look suspicious. The boy was always good at mimicking people. He also learned to love writing, and could crank out a few pages in just an hour. It was especially easy if they were from classes he was already in.

And though inside, he was itching to kidnap someone, show him or her the countless emails he'd gotten in the four emails he'd used for accepting commissions, and prove he was the ghostwriter and have everyone recognize him, a little part of his soul wanted to keep this a secret. No, he didn't even tell his idiot twin brother who he was. The idiot brother in question never suspected him for always working, since he was the studious type anyway.

Well, who was he? Had he been asked, maybe he would have replied he was the ghostwriter, since he'd always wanted to be seen. Yet no one even bothered, and partially as his revenge on the world, he would stay hidden and drive their curiosity. No one would even care who he was, and grim as the thought was, he smiled at it.

Though he'd probably lose his nerve at the last second and simply reply with his actual identity. Then, well, who was he? He was Matthew Williams. Part of the freshman hockey team, and a bloody good player at that. Twin brother of football star Alfred F. Jones, who always stole the spotlight though Matthew could never blame him. Friends with the scariest freshman in their year, the Russian boy Ivan Braginski. Honor student who took pretty much all advanced courses except history (he hated how it was all American history and the little Canadian history there was depicted them as the bad guys). And finally, cousin of the perverted Francis Bonnefoy from the Bad Touch Trio (they were sophomores).

He would never be proud to admit he was related to Francis. Even though Alfred ticked him off, he would say he was proud to be Alfred's twin (when he wasn't being mistaken for him or getting annoyed by him). However, no matter how nice Francis was to him sometimes and how he would soothingly speak French to comfort him, he would never publicly claim he was related to Francis. That was something a lunatic would do, and even Alfred who lives off of attention did not have the nerve to say he was related to Bonnefoy.

If you looked throughout the school for people he hasn't flirted with or groped, you'd find about a small handful. Francis swung both ways, and didn't care about gender. He would go after anything that moved. He even had the nerve to grope seniors and Ivan (though that was only once since both he and his sister had given him a terrible memory). He hadn't groped Lilli Zwingli yet since her brother Vash had an air gun that he managed to take out at any time (though he surprisingly managed to sneak a grope on the brother himself without getting hurt). He also hadn't groped the Hungarian student Elizaveta yet, since he never saw the frying pan coming every time he tried to. He actually groped Matthew on a regular basis unless he wasn't feeling well, then Francis would actually refrain from any harassment and be genuinely worried.

If someone found out you were related to Francis Bonnefoy and let it spread, most likely you would either be barraged by dating requests (because he was oh so romantic) or be labeled kill-on-sight (the girlfriends and boyfriends he had stolen and dumped). Neither option seemed attractive to him.

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><p>On the subject of Francis, he had barged into the Jones's house and kidnapped Matthew. Meanwhile he sneaked a grope as Alfred simply stared at the TV screen playing video games. Despite his twin's protests, he merely mumbled a "have fun Mattie" before twiddling with the game controls.<p>

"_Mon dieu_! Francis, what the hell are you doing?" he gasped out as his cousin carried him potato sack style with his hands dangerously close to his crotch.

Despite his feminine appearance (minus the stubble), Francis was quite strong and Matthew wasn't feeling up to using his hockey skills to pry out of his grasp. "Mathieu, Gilly needs a favor and I think you are best. You did not find a girlfriend yet, _non_?"

He groaned and replied yes. Gilbert Beilschmidt was one of the Bad Touch Trio as they were dubbed. (The last member was a carefree Spaniard named Antonio.) The girls actually loved them a lot since all three of them were extremely good-looking. One tiny problem was they all three of them were non-committal to relationships and flirted around all the time. Not to mention all three of them swung both ways (there are so many homosexual relationships in this messed up academy that no one really cares anymore). Matthew had a really bad feeling where this was going.

As Francis kicked down the door of an unfamiliar house and took Matthew with him inside, both saw Gilbert lounging on a sofa eating donuts and Antonio munching on churros while hugging some Italian who used a very long string of curse words with a red face. Immediately Matthew saw the honey colored eyes and figured out it was Lovino Vargas, famed for his foul mouth.

"Francis, who's that?" Antonio cheerfully asked when he saw Matthew slung over the Frenchman's shoulder.

"_Mon petit_ Mathieu. He is my cuter cousin," he proudly stated as he set the Canadian down gently on the floor.

With his mouth still full of sweet cream and bread, Gilbert mumbled something undecipherable. "Potato bastard, we can't understand," a certain irritable Italian remarked.

After waiting around five seconds for the German (Prussian, he says) to swallow the stuff in his mouth, they got a clear statement. "Franny, so this is the guy you picked out?"

"_Oui_, treat him well with lots of _amour_!" he happily said as he tossed his hair.

"Eh… can I ask what you guys want?" he whispered, almost inaudible.

Francis felt up to explaining, so Gilbert continued stuffing down donuts as Antonio and Lovino stopped paying attention to have yet another scuffle. "Ah, Gilbert here needs _l'amour_, since his papa got tired of him playing around and having a new person over every day. But he can't get a girl, because she will be hurt easily but Gil here is probably the straightest of us (at this, Antonio smiled and hugged Lovino as the Italian swore some more) and so he wanted a cute boy. Mathieu, you can take care of any jealous past boyfriends of his, non?"

In utter shock, he merely let his jaw drop.

Gilbert helpfully added, "_Vögelchen_, it's nothing much, just follow my awesomeness around school and near my _bruder_ so he can report to _vater_."

"B-but I've, n-never been in a relationship b-before!" the hapless boy stuttered.

"_Mein gott_, it's fake, and just for a month," the Prussian said as he rolled his eyes.

"C-can I refuse?" he asked hopefully.

"_Non_!" his cousin happily exclaimed with a glint in his eyes. "Unless Mathieu wants to learn about _l'amour_ again?"

He widened his eyes in fear, and Antonio and Lovino's interjections of "How naughty Franny!" and "Stop molesting your cousin, wine bastard," did not help his situation at all.

"_Non_… eh… f-fine I uh… _MERDE_!" he screamed.

Francis stopped in his tracks. "Mathieu… did you just yell?" he asked incredulously.

Lovino stared at the Canadian blankly for a second. "Hey, I remember you now. You're that burger bastard's brother right? The really quiet one I almost killed once."

Matthew remembered that incident and winced. "Yeah…"

The Italian's face was sheepish as he replied, "Oops. Sorry, your brother is a bastard…" His voice trailed off and he blushed a little.

Antonio hugged him tighter and squealed, "Lovi is cute~"

"CHIIIIGIIIII!" a very flustered Italian screamed as he flailed, and once again the Canadian was forgotten.

Trying to ignore the scene in front of him, he merely muttered, "No problem, eh, always happens." He did not notice the red eyes staring into his only a few inches away until the albino snapped in his ear. He jumped and almost fell backwards.

"Kesese, you got a jumpy kid. Oh well, this kid is cute," he said as he laughed in Francis's direction. Turning his head to face the Canadian who was now trying his best to look away, he said, "Hey, you should totally acknowledge the awesomeness in front of you!"

Matthew blinked a couple times and replied with something not quite smart to do: "Acknowledge is in your vocabulary?" Mentally he slapped himself, since he probably got the other mad by now and currently he planned his best escape route. He did not expect the boy to laugh.

"Kesesese! This kid's great, Francis. Maybe I might keep him for two months!" he sniggered.

In mock horror the French boy replied, "_Mon dieu_! Mathieu might die in your hands!"

Lovino snorted and said, "As if you're one to comment, wine bastard."

Antonio lightly tapped his head and said, "Lovi, don't insult my friends!"

"Okay! My awesomeness has declared Mattie Jones to be my official not-boyfriend!"

"…my surname isn't Jones, eh," he murmured.

Surprised, the albino turned to him. "Isn't your brother Alfred F. Jones? The really big jerk on the football team?" All of them, even the clueless Spaniard, knew the "don't worry, you're better than him" went unspoken.

"…family is complicated. I'm Matthew Williams."

"Mattie Williams… _Vögelchen_! Yay, now you have an awesome nickname too!" Gilbert grinned while Francis and Antonio cheered as Lovino grumpily clapped a bit to please the Spaniard.

"What does _Vögelchen_ mean anyway?" he asked, not even bothering to try to pry himself from his messed up fate.

As if the grin couldn't grow any wider, the Prussian yelled, "Birdie! You have fluffy yellow hair, just like Gilbird!"

At this Francis widened his eyes in horror. "_Merde_! _La Prusse_, keep that bird away from me!"

"Hey, you knew me all these years and you still dare insult my awesome pet?" the albino pouted and Matthew admitted in some dark corner of his mind that it was a tiny bit cute. As if on cue, a yellow furba—uh, featherball flew from nowhere and slammed into Francis. The little canary was pecking madly at his beloved hair, and he was screaming.

Matthew thought the sight was so funny he giggled, and did not remember his predicament until all chaos was settled and Antonio and Lovino long gone to do whatever it was that they did.

"_Scheiße_, that sounded so girly. Maybe I can convince _vater_ I'm straight if you dress up in drag," he airily said. "Not that he cares much about how I awesomely swing anymore, since my awesomeness was too much to go up against!"

While still distressed that he had to pretend to go out with this strange boy unless he wanted to be mind scarred for life by Francis, Matthew still managed to croak out a sarcastic remark. Maybe hanging around Arthur for so long paid off. "Don't you mean annoyed the crap out of your family that he didn't want to put up with you and practically has no standards for you to reach anymore?"

The Frenchman was cracking up, and while he was distressed that Matthew had been "corrupted" by the vile Englishman, he thought the fake wounded face that Gilbert put up was worth it. Matthew needed to go out more, he thought. Why not let the cute Canadian help Gilbert out of his recent shell while at it? And as a bonus, there will be _l'amour_~

It was a good idea to ask Elizaveta to ask Feliciano mention Gilbert's constant flings to Ludwig. The Hungarian was delighted with his plan for once, and Francis was glad he was on her side in this at least. Or at least not on the receiving end of her frying pan.

* * *

><p>After Matthew had gone home and mulled over the latest developments, he noticed the multitude of emails in his inbox.<p>

_Oh crap_, he thought. Quickly opening a new document, he set off onto writing some essays. At least the procrastinating students had the decency to all send in the exact same assignment. Sometimes Matthew thought they just sent them all together on the last day he would accept them. Oh well, at least he had three days to type furiously and finish the ten or so commissions.

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><p>Meanwhile, back at Gilbert's house, Francis was standing by watching the German stare at the ceiling while lazing on the couch. Somewhere Gilbird was flying in circles, keeping a good distance away from the Frenchman. The hate was mutual at least, and Francis glared at the bird every once in a while.<p>

"Francis…" Gilbert spoke up and snapped Francis out of his (non-perverted for once) thoughts of how to cook a chicken.

"_Oui, la Prusse_?" he hesitantly replied.

"You didn't have to lie and tell the boy it was because I was scared a girl might get beat up. No one really will kill the awesomeness's date anyway," he stated.

Francis gave him a grave look. "Gilly, you shouldn't dwell on your past. Nor Lizzy, _oui_?"

The albino sighed, "Maybe, Franny, maybe."

Francis's somewhat high spirits earlier plummeted at the sight of his friend so depressed. Trying to think of a way to cheer him up, he carefully picked his words. "_Mon dieu_, I forgot I was going to have a session of _l'amour_ with Arthur at the bar tomorrow. Does _la Prusse_ want to come and bring Mathieu for a couple of friendly drinks?"

His ears perked up at the mention of beer and he nodded. Feeling slightly accomplished, Francis tried to think of a way to kidnap both Arthur and Matthew in the least possible amount of time without Alfred noticing. He didn't see Gilbird slam into his head and knock him out cold. Chuckling quietly to himself, Gilbert patted his unconscious friend's head and said, "Ha, had that coming, right Gilbird the Great?" The chick tweeted and hopped onto his head. "But thanks, Franny. You saved the awesomeness's pants today, kesese," he added as an afterthought.

When Gilbird finally turned away, the Frenchman muttered under his breath into the carpet, "_Oui_, yet you sic that bird on me? Ungrateful friend you are."

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><p><strong>AN:** Ahaha… I should really keep to one fiction and not write about ten ideas down. At least this one made it into one chapter and not just a five hundred word segment that I quit writing.

Foreign languages:

Mon dieu- My god!

non?- no?

Mon petit- My little

Oui- Yes

Amour- love

Vögelchen- birdie

Bruder- brother

Vater- dad

Mein gott- my god

Merde- shit

Scheiße- shit

la Prusse- Prussia

In my head alternate universe, France calls Gilbert Prussia (la Prusse) sometimes. I just wanted to do it since it sounded cool. Also, everyone has ridiculous pet names for each other (Gilly, Franny, and Toni). Gilbird and Francis have a long-standing rivalry for some reason. PayFriend = ripoff of PayPal, and the email at the top is just something I made up. -_-

Anyway, this might be confusing, so I'll post a recap.

Matthew Williams is working as a ghostwriter. Francis kidnaps him and forces him to pretend to date Gilbert to convince his family that he's in a committed relationship and not a random fling. (Francis also has a secret motive for trying to hook them up.) As Matthew finally relents despite his reluctance, Gilbert asks Francis why he lied to Matthew about wanted a boyfriend, and Francis tells him to forget about the past. Which somehow involves the Hungarian girl…?

Ooh… foreshadowing… well, flashbacks. Since it was in the past.

Next chapter spoilers: Matthew and Arthur are kidnapped, while the Italian brothers and Ludwig are dragged along to the bar as well. But a few people who nobody expected to see accidentally bump into the odd group at the bar. Chaos ensues.

P.S. I intend on making a villain. It will not be Russia. I think he is misunderstood. I haven't decided specifically yet, so no more spoilers besides this one. And I seriously hope I didn't screw up any of this yet. xD Review for maple syrup and new chapters!


	2. Chapter 2: Beer Fixes Everything

**A/N:** Aw :D Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and subscriptions! I'll try my best, so keep them coming! I didn't even expect that many, since my English grade is great though my essay writing skills are rock bottom in my class… **Warning:** **following this sentence there will either be a bunch of useless rambles, replies to reviews, or stuff already mentioned in chapter one, so you can skip to the story if you are not interested. **As of now I should write occasionally on Tomato Adventures, my other story as well as this one. Well, since my style for both stories are drastically different, I'm sorry if this one seems a little short and choppy and if the other one seems more… solid than it was. ^^ What I get for keeping so many ideas xD /end ramble

EmilyXXSasu: Thank you for the uber long review, and no offense taken at all from criticism. ^^ About America and Belarus, I know it's crack, and I love crack pairings, just not this particular one. And sorry about USUK, I feel similar about FrUK. I only read that pairing if I feel the story is awesome. And about Arthur, Iggy is one of my favorites too, and I intend on making him very sarcastic. :p

Treegona: So you don't want maple syrup? D: And France is not a bad person in my eyes, just a terribly cruel tease. XD

Gaxxy: There are reviews before yours, FF just doesn't want to show it for some reason. O.o But thanks! About Russia, it's rather sad how many fics that are not Ivan-centric and actually have a plot have Russia as the villain. Poor guy, though it is true his aura is a bit frightening. Actually, same goes for Belarus. She's just a little obsessed.

MakenshIChrona: Thanks! And I'm working on chapters, hope you like this one.

Chelseaj500: If it's the BTT doing the kidnapping, it's something big. :)

Blurry19: Thanks a bunch!

Crazy4animeCouples: Yep, maybe Sweden and Germany are misunderstood by the characters, but Russia is misunderstood by the fans AND the characters. Poor Ivan. *pets* About USUK, I just simply like it more, but since it's France you're talking about here, it's possible to pair him with anyone, so there will still be a little FrUK, i.e. when Arthur's drunk or simply daily molesting. :) About RusAme, I've never been good on the hate-love thing, so I don't think I'll do that, but I do like how they interact so I might have something come up. And those Nordic pairs are my headcanon pairs, so no problem with that.

BlackRain-BlackBlood: Thanks. :)

methodtothismadness: Thanks XD

Moon made of Ink: I'll keep that in mind, but I just really like parentheses. The sentences just seem like random rambles on my part or on the character's part and won't really fit in with the rest of the paragraph... but thanks for feedback. ^^

AllenWalker4ever: Just wait... :p

Below is copy pasted:

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, Russia would carry around a pipe with sunflower stickers on it, and every nation would have a pink pony, courtesy of Poland.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Beer Can Fix Everything<strong>

Matthew had pulled an all-nighter, and the bags under his eyes were even deeper than before. The false relationship he had just been coerced into participating him kept on bothering him, and rather than stress about it in bed, he let the stress come out in his writing. His fingers flew across the keyboard and he somehow managed to do half of the commissions in record time. Maybe the quality of his writing had dropped, but after taking a peek at the students' own essays, he concluded two-thirds the grade he was going to get them would be higher than the grade they would get themselves.

It was Wednesday morning, and he couldn't take Alfred's snores anymore so after clicking save on his sixth file and exiting, he ran downstairs to make some pancakes. Their mother had already gone off to work, and their father was away on one of his countless business trips he was almost always never home. Matthew had already made four pancakes and was planning on making two more for them to split evenly, though inside he knew somehow Alfred was going to end up eating four.

Apparently the aroma wafting in from the kitchen was too much for even the lazy Alfred to resist, and Matthew found his very sleepy twin downstairs in his superman pajamas. He reached for a plate of pancakes, but Matthew slapped his hand with the spatula. "Alfred, brush your teeth and change before you dare come back down," he commanded the best and loudest he could. Grumbling, the red and blue-dressed teen went slowly trudging back up the stairs.

After he had finished, he had placed three on two separate plates, which both had insane amounts of maple syrup drowning them. He had barely stuck his fork into one pancake when a blur picked up a plate and downed all three in one go. There his brother stood with his face full of spots of syrup oozing down that idiotically happy grin. Without even asking he picked up one of Matthew's pancakes and crammed it in his mouth. "Fank yu Mafie!" he shouted through his pancake-filled mouth as he ran out the door. The Canadian sighed and simply ate the remaining two, not bothering to tell Alfred that he had woken early and that there wouldn't be any buses for another half-hour or so.

* * *

><p>School was almost normal. He had gotten confused for Alfred many times as usual. Carlos had punched him straight in the gut until he realized that the boy wasn't Alfred, then apologized and offered an ice cream bar as an apology, which he declined. Then Arthur had come screaming at him saying that he shouldn't always cut class, but then after Matthew finally got the message that he was not his twin brother across, he blinked and apologized profusely for mistaking his friend for his worst nightmare of a brother.<p>

However, Matthew had received a text from his cousin which said that they didn't have to announce their relationship today, but in return he had to go join them for a round at a bar. He got a migraine just thinking of what happened the last time he had gotten drunk, and quickly flipped his phone shut hoping that he could evade the French cousin later.

It was a hopeless idea. Francis must have given Antonio directions to the Jones residence, since at around three thirty he heard arguing outside his door and someone ringing the doorbell constantly. He groaned and went to open it, thinking it would be a salesman but he had gotten kidnapped jointly by Antonio and Lovino. The latter was yelling at the Spaniard for getting them lost as Matthew resigned himself to his fate of being carried away potato sack style, which Lovino did not fail to mention (partially for jealousy he wasn't being carried and partially because he hated potatoes).

Sometimes Matthew wished he wasn't so weak when not angry or exposed to hockey.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Francis had already received an angry text in Italian that their part of the plan had been completed. Smiling, he now rounded the corner of the music room where Arthur would be coming out at any moment from his afterschool orchestra practice. Surely enough, a familiar sandy blonde head was mingled in with the crowd pouring out. Francis quickly stepped into the crowd, occasionally groping the random passerby and enjoying how they reacted without realized who it was. He finally reached his target though he had gotten hit by a few hefty viola cases.<p>

He began, "Angleterre, will you—"

Arthur replied with a curt, "No, frog."

"But—"

"Over my dead body."

"You know th—"

"Go die, frog."

"Mon—"

"I don't want to hear your bloody frog language."

Francis smirked when he knew for sure the Englishman wasn't looking. His hand wandered to the boy's lower regions, but a violin case deflected it.

"Don't you dare, bloody frog. I'll castrate you if you try."

Though he was used to these threats, this one's tone sent a shudder through him. Apparently he had caught the boy in a bad mood (a worse mood than usual, he was always grumpy). But Francis had already completed his objective. Without even zipping up the open pocket on the case, he left with all of Arthur's sheet music.

Upon getting home, the boy in question noticed something wrong with his case. The zipper was open, and a large portion of his music was gone. He had a pretty good idea who did it, and he was seething but upon seeing a bright blue post-it note, his suspicions were confirmed. Positively fuming, Arthur stormed out of the house just as he grabbed his spellbook. That frog was going to die.

He left the note on the floor without even looking at it. It read, "_Mon cher_! Happy hunting for your music? It's not in your case, _non_? You probably didn't even read this, but know this mon cher: you will regret not reading the whole message when you wake up tomorrow with a headache and no clothes on, ohonhon~"

He had learned to his dismay, that he lived in the same block as Alfred and in the same neighborhood as Francis, and by now he had memorized both their houses and stolen their spare keys so he could barge in and yell at them. (Sadly for him the favor was returned, his door had been broken countless times by both parties when they wanted something.) Angry enough that he didn't even bother to think about sparing the Frenchman from fixing the door, he kicked the front door down only to be restrained by his shoulders from behind.

"Damn frog! Where in the bloody hell is my music?" he snarled at his captor.

"Ohonhon, Angleterre, you're coming with me now, _oui_?" Francis had now picked up the shorter man by his arms and had started dragging him off.

Realizing the situation, the Brit started to panic while struggling and kicking, though the Frenchman was stronger than he gave credit for. "What the—bloody hell, let me go this instant! Frog, if you don't let me go I swear I really am going to castrate you! _Wankeerrrrrrr_!" his cry was lost to the neighborhood as the random families residing nearby had gotten used to five years of arguing and had learned to completely ignore them.

"_Mon cher_, if I let you go then I really will die, _non_? So I will have to keep you restrained~" he remarked while moving off to where Matthew, Lovino, and Antonio were headed, still keeping a stranglehold on the struggling boy.

* * *

><p>At the bar Matthew had already resigned himself to his fate, but Arthur was still inflicting minor scratches and bruises on Francis and breaking everyone's eardrums with his constant yelling. Lovino actually elbowed the poor boy straight in the face to knock him out. He then thoughtfully kneed Francis in the groin and slammed his head into the counter to prevent him from molesting Arthur while he was out cold.<p>

"Tch. The idiots deserved it," he commented when Matthew questioned him. When asked again if he would do that to the "idiot Spaniard," he turned away and refused to comment. With only Antonio left and definitely bending to Lovino's will, Matthew sighed in relief, since it didn't seem like the little Italian wanted alcohol either. However, his hopes were dashed as soon as two very pale arms draped themselves around his neck.

"Birdie~! Tomorrow you will begin being an awesome official fake boyfriend!" the albino said cheekily while adding weight onto the boy's shoulders by placing his chin on the right shoulder and wrapping his arms around his torso.

He started to stutter in reply, "Wh-wh-what are you doing?" Matthew could feel his hot breath burning into his neck, and felt his ears grow hot from flushing.

Gilbert blinked for a second, but then hugged him tighter and said, "Kesese, what does it look like I'm doing? It's for practice!"

At this he blankly stared back and squinted. "Practice?"

"Uh huh. You need to shape up your awesomeness so you're worthy enough to be my boyfriend. So to boost your awesomeness points, I need to transfer over my unlimited awesomeness!" he stated as he finally let go and sat down on a stool.

Matthew's face had lost its original red hue, and now he gave a deadpan look to the German. "I doubt awesomeness is contagious," he remarked. Before the other could respond, he then supplied, "But I think idiocy is. Otherwise how would I ever agree to such a request? I've been around Alfred too long, haven't I?" He chuckled darkly.

The albino did not know what to make of this, and so he did not say anything. This invited the other to continue speaking. "Does Francis even know my sexual orientation? I never said I was interested in men, eh? Damn you Alfred, rubbing off your stupidity on me. Why did I accept that request?" he said to no one in particular. Something in him had snapped. "When I get home I swear I'm going to murder him in his sleep, and then castrate Francis for dragging me into this. Eh, Arthur's going to have a field day."

He glanced over to the Prussian to ask something else, but as he opened his mouth, he caught sight of the other's utterly confused expression and promptly shut his mouth. Blood was rushing up to his face now, and suddenly his stuttering and timid personality came out. "Uh, erm… s-sorry? I, uh, d-didn't mean for that to come out!" He jumped backwards and almost fell off the chair. "Uh, please don't t-take offense!" Matthew pleaded.

Gilbert was dumbstruck. _What just happened?_ "Uh… birdie…"

"Yes?" he squeaked out, shrinking away.

"Don't be sorry, okay? I don't even know what you're apologizing for!" the German said while rolling his eyes. "That was weird, you know?"

"Um, uh… okay, s-sorry for being sorry…"

"…dude. Birdie, loosen up!" He turned away for a second to speak to the bartender, who seemed like he wanted to strangle the German but still complied while getting some drinks. Maybe they were frequent visitors and something bad happened, Matthew thought. Slamming them down a minute or so later, he glared at the limp forms of Arthur and Francis and cast a wary eye over to Antonio and Lovino.

Prussia chuckled something which sounded like "kesese" and slid a drink over to Antonio's direction, left two near the still unconscious boys, and took one for himself. "Mattie, want one?" he gestured over to another glass bubbling nearby. Before waiting for an answer, he took a swig and swallowed.

"Uh, no thanks. I don't think I can take alcohol well, eh. Sorry," he answered sheepishly.

"Aw, c'mon. Take a drink, please? Arthur has the worst tolerance in the world! He collapses only after five beers—what a wuss!"

The Canadian made a face, but had no choice seeing that the face Gilbert was making was too irresistible. "Fine, fine—wait. What, five beers?" he asked incredulously.

Gilbert shrugged and took another gulp. "Arthur's the worst drinker here, I can take about twenty before I get awesomely smashed. Francis is actually pretty weak too, passes out over eight. Keeps on saying the only stuff he can take is wine but none of us buy it. Antonio could make a good opponent but Lovino always stops him so its no fun," he pouted. "Unless Mathias comes, there's no one to compete against," he said as he drained out the remainder of the glass.

Matthew turned paler than he already was, and whispered, "Gilbert… I-I'm not sure if I can take even one b-bottle of that stuff." He looked down and was hoping he could get out of this.

Suddenly he felt himself get toppled over along with the chair he was seated on. "Wha—ow!" He had landed with a thud on the ground, and Gilbert on top hugging the living daylights out of him.

"Birdie~! You looked so cute it was awesome! I forgive you being a pussy!" he shouted as the rest of the bar stared at them. There was an audible hand-hitting-face-noise coming from the bartender, and Matthew felt his cheeks redden the hue of a tomato.

Which was immediately remarked upon by Antonio. "Look Lovi! Mateo looks like a tomato just like you do!"

"Sh-shut up tomato bastard!" the Italian replied, face burning. "And don't call me that!"

"Ve~? _Fratello_?"

He turned around with wide eyes, temporarily forgetting about the Spaniard when a flying blur tackled him to the floor. "_Fratello_! You should have told me you were coming here, ve~ Me and Luddy had look around everywhere!" he squealed excitedly.

"…_fratellllooooo_…" a menacing voice came out muffled from underneath the happy Italian.

"Ve… LUDWIG!" he ran off his brother in record speed, landing straight in the arms of a sturdy German who was starting to get flustered. "Waaah! _Fratello's_ being mean!"

Lovino's head shot up and he glared daggers at the odd pair. "Potato bastard, get your fucking hands off of my fratello!" he demanded as Antonio suddenly crept up behind him.

"But it was Feliciano who jumped into my arms…"the German remarked while considering his best escape route.

"Shut up potato bast—hey! What are you doing tomato bastard! Nooo! Fucking stop!" There were tears coming out of his eyes as the Italian started laughing. Antonio was tickling him.

The rest of the people were astounded.

"Ve? _Fratello_ is sad? Why is he crying, Ludwig?"

"_Mein gott_, uh… those are tears of happiness I think?"

"Whoa! Nice going, Toni! You actually got him to smile!"

"Hm… what is bloody going on he—GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF ME FROG!"

"Ohonhonhon, that's out of th— _mon Dieu_! Angleterre, are you trying to kill moi? What is—_merde_! Is that a kitchen knife?"

"Fuck! Hahaha, fucking shit! Stop it damn bastard, haha, stop!"

"_Mi tomate_! So cute~!"

"GO BURN IN HELL FROG!"

"Eep! Arthur, don't kill my cousin!"

"_Brude_r, you're paying the bill, kesese, I awesomely forgot my wallet at home!"

"Why did I let Feliciano drag me here…"

The other customers were slowly edging away and making their way out of the bar, but they were halted when the door swung open and they caught sight of a terrified bouncer shivering in his clothes. In the doorway there was a group of five people. Five people whom the bars knew depressingly well, and loathed just as much as they loathed the Bad Touch Trio and Arthur.

"Shut up, stupid. We don't need to hear your crap when you're drunk."

"Aw Luke, c'mon, let's get some beer!"

"…let's ditch this annoying asshole and go home."

"Berwald?"

"M' wifey?"

"I'm not your wife. Do we know them?"

"Mmm… do we?"

"Hm, I think this idiot is friends with some of them."

At this point, the customers made a point of leaving as quickly as they could. One group was bad enough, but when the two lousiest teenage groups ended up in the bar at the same time, chaos would ensue. Nervously, the bartender licked his lips and said, "Uh, well, sorry, the bar is closed. Please go home. _Now_."

He was completely ignored as Gilbert piped up, "Arthur! Let's have a drinking contest with Mathias!"

"Sounds great! Luke, I'm going now!" the Dane shouted as he made his way over to the counter, leaving behind the four others standing by the entrance.

"Mhm… I'll take you up on that offer Beilschmidt—once I bloody castrate this frog."

"Damn it… there's more bastards now?"

The bartender was now shaking with rage. "GET OUT YOU FUCKING DELINQUENTS!" He snapped and had started throwing the bottles randomly, and the students even with their zero sense of danger thought it best to leave before his aim actually managed to get better. As soon as the whole group had dashed a decent distance away from the bar, a breathless Gilbert said, "_Westen_, you're in luck today. He forgot to send us the bill."

"_Ja, ja, bruder_, please stop going drinking," the younger German sighed exasperatedly.

"Not happening, potato bastard. You would know," the grumpy Italian spoke up. "And I fucking told you, LET GO OF FRATELLO!"

Matthew hoped he could take his leave quietly, for once thanking his lucky stars he was invisible. Before he could sneak away, a pale hand grabbed his wrist. "Where do you think you're going, _Vögelchen_?"

He gulped and turned around. The Prussian had a glint in his red eyes. "Franny, you do know another bar, right?" he directed his gaze away, but retained a vice-like grip on the Canadian.

"_Oui, la Prusse_. Let's go then. Angleterre, I'll carry you there if you're tired~"

Francis's face was slammed into the dirt with a foot on his blonde hair. "Bloody frog," the perpetrator grumbled. "Gilbert, the contest? To put it in Alfred's stupid language, 'bring it on.'"

Mathias had poked in and grinned. "No forgetting me!"

"Shut up," the irritated short Norwegian boy named Lukas said.

"Aw, why Luke?"

"Because." This time his silver-haired brother had sneaked up behind the tall Dane and wrapped his scarf around the other's neck. He made sure to pull hard. Very hard. Satisfied, Emil offered a high-five to his brother, who returned the gesture while smiling at the sight of the Dane making strangled noises on the floor while trying to undo the knotted scarf.

Tino glanced around and spoke up. "Uh, I don't think Lukas wants Mathias to drink, so you two just go ahead by yourselves."

Gilbert frowned.

Always wanting to please, the Finnish boy quickly added, "Uh, we'll still come, right Berwald? Just no drinking."

He gave a very hard stare, which most of them interpreted as a glare and shuddered. However, Tino was unaffected whatsoever. "Yes, m' wifey."

"For the last time, I'm not your wife, Berwald."

The large group made their way to terrorize the next bar they found. Matthew groaned and hoped he would make it back home to finish the commissions and that his mother and brother would not feel up to questioning him. Racking his brain which was full of essay-writing experience, he tried to come up with the best excuse possible. Mentally, he wanted to bang his head against a wall and fervently wished he was as good as lying as Alfred was.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Er, I don't like this chapter very much. Reading over it again only slightly improved my opinion of it. And the kidnappings were rather lame, and yes, I am minutely fascinated by music and my orchestra class. I just had to stick Arthur in the orchestra while he's in "good boy mode" and maybe you guys might see him go punk later…

I digress. The Nordics have made their entrance early, and Matthew is not pleased with how things are unfolding since now he has little time to help others cheat.

Somehow I find that Prussia and England can make good friends, since if England can deal with America, it's only slightly different from dealing with Prussia. Those two both have egos the size of Mars.

About the five beers are twenty beers and xx beers are whatnot, I really do not know how much a normal human could take anyway so I just put a random number. -_-

I also decided to include Iceland choking Denmark because it was funny seeing Norway choke him in the anime, and I guess brotherly habits are shared? I also see Finland as a very nice guy, unless you get on the wrong side of him, then odd things will happen… like the Nordics suddenly jumping you on sight, there seems to be booby traps everywhere in your house, and you don't get Christmas presents for the rest of your life.

There's actually foreshadowing in this. If you see it in future chapters, you might want to read over Matthew's words carefully. You might be able to catch something.

One-liners starting from where Spain tickles Romano:

Veneziano

Germany

Prussia

England

France

Romano

Spain

England

Canada

Prussia

Germany

Then Nordics:

Norway

Denmark

Iceland

Finland

Sweden

Finland

Sweden

Norway

I really do not feel up to translating random bits anymore… I don't think I used anything new, so think a bit? XD Sorry, I'm lazy.

Recap: Matthew makes Alfred pancakes. Then he and Arthur are kidnapped, while the BTT and Lovino meet at the bar. Feliciano and Ludwig show up, and even more surprisingly the Nordic Five cross paths with them, which ultimately leads to getting kicked out.

Next chapter spoilers: Insane amounts of alcohol causes a bit of trouble for the gang as they are booted out yet again. Matthew finally agrees to faking with Gilbert without any fight at all, but both of them are suspicious with how the other had acted earlier. Someone's not happy when the Canadian gets home...

If anything seems out of place it's late here and I just came back from a grueling chess tournament and ballet performance... so my brain is not working quite right. Just post in a review and I'll fix whatever I did wrong sometime. :) Review please, and bye!


	3. Chapter 3: Promises

**A/N:** Once again, thanks for all the reviews! They motivate me and it's fun to see what you guys think. ^^ **Warning:** **following this sentence there will either be a bunch of useless rambles, replies to reviews, or stuff already mentioned in chapter one, so you can skip to the story if you are not interested. **I should really get to work on Tomato Adventures… oh well. This is is more interesting and easier to write in my opinion. And I also started another story to keep all my insane head nations in check, so if you want check it out.

MakenshiCrona: Uh, kind sorry to disappoint but I lost internet and kinda forgot my own plot. *shot* But there will be future scenes, so stay tuned! To compensate there's a little more fluff here. Thanks for posting again!

Blurry19: Thanks for stalking. ^^ Er, I believe following is a better word. XD

Treegona: Okay. Understandable then. And Tino, denial is not a river in Egypt! D:

Farfetched Fairy: Sorry for making him weird, it's just that there's not much of Sweden in the anime (the Nordics at all v.v;;) and I pretty much interpret other people's fanfics… and I have bad reading comprehension grades. But I appreciate you posting at all, and I don't take offense at criticism, be it constructive or just jabbing lightly at something. (I can't take flames.) But thanks!

Chelseaj500: About FrUK, while I do intend on making USUK, gropey moments are too hard to resist. XD So just enjoy the gropings while you can. :) Thanks for following!

Chisio chuudoku: I will :D

Below is copy pasted:

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, Russia would carry around a pipe with sunflower stickers on it, and every nation would have a pink pony, courtesy of Poland.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Promises<strong>

Lovino grumpily trudged along, following the rest of the group to the next bar. He was somewhat glad to see he wasn't the only unwilling one, since Martin or whatever was dragged along by the older potato bastard and that Norwegian brat was glaring at everyone. However, a hyperactive tomato bastard was currently annoying him. All thoughts he had previously disappeared as he tried again to remove some happy hands from his rear end with extreme cussing and kicks directed at the Spaniard.

* * *

><p>The Canadian was slightly amused that Arthur, who normally was constantly yelling and in a grumpy mood, was actually grinning slightly and getting along well with Gilbert. He didn't know that his friend was acquainted with the German, because he assumed anyone that Francis was friends with, Arthur hated. Both of them had laughed uproariously at the antics of Mathias Densen, who was currently trying to hide unsuccessfully from the two brothers on his hide.<p>

Gilbert had slapped the Brit on his back, which elicited a jump from the other. Seeing as they were occupied, Matthew tried once again to silently sneak out and try to catch a bus home. To his dismay, the German had a built-in radar or something, and immediately turned his head around and winked at him. Rarely in his life Matthew really wished no one would notice him, like now. It seemed the universe just wanted to work against him.

He marveled at how quickly Francis had gotten them there. Apparently there was more in the Frenchman's head than roses, perverted thoughts, and French. He had exceptional navigation skills and got the shortest route to the bar. Either that or he had memorized the location of every single bar in the town to find victims to grope.

Meanwhile, as he looked at the burly bouncer at the bar, he jumped when he recognized the person standing there. Shrinking back, Matthew tried his best to hide behind Ludwig, since Berwald's stares were too frightening. Unluckily for him, Carlos let them all in, and had noticed the Canadian. He hid his face and prepared himself for a punch, but the Cuban grinned. "Hey Williams! Ditched your brother? Awesome, that guy sucks balls!"

Surprised, he blinked. Carlos had actually recognized him immediately, not after he had beaten him half-dead. "Uh, what are you doing here?" he questioned.

Carlos chortled. "Hah! This group you're in comes here a lot because I always let them in. Plus they even know the owner of the bar who did me a favor and got me the job here." Leaning in, he whispered, "It's old man Vargas's place."

Widening his eyes, he squeaked, "What?" Lowering his voice, he whisper-shouted, "But he's the principal of the school! How can he let minors drink?"

The Cuban gave him a toothy grin, and replied, "You mean you haven't noticed how he acts? Always having to be restrained by Beilschmidt's old man's pop. Geez, it's just like an older version of that Italian pipsqueak and Ludwig." Without waiting for a reaction, he shoved the boy in the bar and shouted, "Come back sometime with your friends, but don't bring Jones!"

Matthew was dumbstruck. Staring dazedly at the entrance where the Cuban was waving his hands around and making small talk with Antonio, he realized just how much he didn't know. Though Mr. Vargas was airheaded and always needed his vice principal to cover for everything he messed up on, he did not realize just how loose that man actually was. Reminding himself where he was, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Turning around, he saw that Gilbert and Arthur were chugging with a speed that would have made any sane person puke.

He decided to walk over slowly, since he felt out of place for standing there in the mass of people. Before he reached his destination, someone had grabbed him and yanked his hands. He saw himself staring at Tino, who was now… dancing? Smiling back at him, the Finnish boy said, "Hey, you're Matthew, right? You should have fun!" Awkwardly the Canadian moved a bit and tried to copy the other, but a second later he felt the pressure on his hands gone and Tino dancing with Berwald.

Bemused, he gawked at his hands and feet before someone yet again grabbed him. However, this time whoever it was did not try to dance. Rather he was getting pulled along. Looking up while trying to stay on his feet, Matthew saw Lovino's honey eyes staring back. "Shit, walk faster, kiddo." There was a hard yank and he managed to pick himself up better and started to walk normally.

"Thanks, Lovino," he mumbled. The Italian was kind enough to notice how awkward he felt standing alone.

"Dammit! If I have to go with those bastards then I'm not going to be the only suffering!" his captor mumbled. _…or not,_ Matthew concluded. However, the boy's face proved otherwise, since his trademark blush and scowl had reappeared on his face.

* * *

><p>Upon reaching them, both of them noticed that Arthur was swaying already, and Gilbert was laughing like mad, even more than usual. Francis was grinning and taking advantage of it and groping Arthur since he didn't notice. This bartender seemed much more lighthearted than the other one, and laughed along with them when Arthur fell out of his seat from too much alcohol.<p>

Gilbert spun around on the stool, and came face-to-face with Matthew. By now, Lovino had stalked off and drifted towards Antonio again. "Kesesese, Arthur sure can't stand the awesomeness that is me!"

"It's 'aweshumness that's I, ye twit," a drunk Englishman slurred once he had perched himself precariously on the seat. "n' Cap'n Kirkland doesn' bloody lose 'is drinkin' matches! Fuck ye!" Arthur was positively drunk, and everyone sans Matthew laughed at his state.

"Uh, Arthur? Are you okay?" he questioned.

"Fuck off, Alfred. I kin hold me la—le—liquor better 'n ye kin!" he stated while waving his arms around.

"I'm not Alfred!" Matthew replied.

"Damn ye, liars go off the plank here!" Arthur snapped back before almost falling off the stool again.

Sighing because his friend probably wouldn't get sober anytime soon, Matthew turned back to Gilbert and ignored the Brit's drunken rants. "You shouldn't go drinking. Something like that happens when minors drink." He pointed towards Arthur for good emphasis.

The albino chuckled and replied, "Artie's a lightweight pussy. The awesomeness can take all the best beer in Germany! But this stuff has to do when you're in this country. Want one too?" Grabbing a glass from the counter, he shoved it in the Canadian's face.

"No thanks, Gil. I don't think I can—"

"Kesesese! That's cute, Birdie!" The German started to downright _giggle._

"What funny, eh?" he asked, puzzled.

"Gil's a cute nickname, right?"

The Canadian's face flushed red, not realizing his little slip-up. "Wh-what does that have to do anything?"

"Aw, Birdie really fell for me? No problem, I'm awesome!" He grinned and opened his arms wide. Before Matthew could reply, he had grabbed the other and hoisted him onto his lap. "C'mon, now tell me, what was that earlier? So you're not gay as a rainbow, I thought Francis would know if you weren't," he asked while slipping his arms around the Canadian's waist.

"Wh-what—why are you hugging me?" the boy stuttered while trying to pry the pale arms off his waist. His face was starting to get redder every second.

The German squeezed tighter and whispered in the other's ear, "Don't change the topic, kesese."

He could feel Gilbert's breath burning into his skin, and a faint smell of alcohol giving a headache. "W-well I am bisexual, I just, eh… I-I don't know?" he left off.

He sent a fake pout towards Matthew. "Huh? I'm not awesome enough?"

Startled by the expression, he flushed and hurriedly supplied, "No! N-not that! It's uh… I just got mad!" The other's expression demanded elaboration, so he continued, "Mad at Alfred! For always taking the spotlight! And, mad at—" he stopped himself before he continued. The Canadian didn't want to say he was angry at Gilbert for making him go to bar though he didn't want to, since the other seemed like he genuinely thought Matthew would have liked to go.

Confused by the abrupt stop, Gilbert said, "Mad? I know that asshole brother of yours is one, who was the other?"

Head scrambling to find a suitable lie to use, Matthew quickly threw, "Me for hurting you."

Neither of them caught what he said, the speaker himself confused as to what he just spat out. "Uh, I didn't hear that. What, Birdie?" The German asked.

"Eh, I-I kinda forgot. Bad memory, ha? Haha… I really forgot so uh, sorry. B-by the way, can you please let go, Gilbert? I think I might suffocate soon!"

He complied and could not help but add, "Why do you keep on saying sorry?"

"Nervous habit?" the other supplied.

The answer was received by a light knock on the head and a reprimand. "Stand up for yourself kid, that's why your brother can be a douchebag and always shadows you."

"Tha—that's none of your business! Ugh, but really, Francis really did have to drag me here, didn't he?" he sighed. Looking around the room, he noticed what the others were up to. The Nordics were hanging out in their own little group nearby, apparently distracting the bartender away from the scene Francis and Arthur were putting up. Lovino was busy yelling at someone, probably Ludwig, and Feliciano and Antonio were both trying to get him to stop.

"Hey, look on the bright side kid. You get to fake-date the awesome me!" The Prussian waved his hands in the air, but no one really cared to pay attention as they were too occupied with their own scuffles and activities.

"Yeah, yeah, on one condition," he offered.

Gilbert pouted but complied, "Fine, but I don't get what's bad about dating someone awesome."

"No jumping me and forcing me to do things I don't like. Don't—don't even think about sex!" he rushed out in a blush, then continued, "Please don't look into my private matters and finally, please. Don't forget about me." The Canadian looked down sheepishly.

His companion stared for a second before slapping his back and laughing. "Wow, that was, one, two, three, shit, pfft, four! And that last one was weird, you know." He leered and added, "I might have an awesomely selective memory but I sure as hell don't forget my friends!"

Matthew flushed and asked, "Y-you think of me as a friend?"

"Oh. It's _boy_friend, right?" the other teased. Amused at the other's reddening face, he then included, "Just teasing, geez Birdie."

"I-I need to get home!" He randomly shouted without even looking at his watch. When he finally remembered that he hadn't even checked the time, he hurriedly glanced down at this wrist and spazzed. "Merde! My mom is going to kill me!" Flailing, he slid off the stool and was about to dash out the door until Gilbert tugged on his wrist and stopped him.

"Hey, you do realize you don't even know this place and probably don't have a ride home?" the Prussian chuckled dryly as the Canadian started to blush even more at his mistake.

"Uh, I'll take the bus?" he offered.

At this his friend laughed even more. "_Scheiße_, you don't have your wallet on you! Kesesese!"

"Wait, what?" he stared back. Quickly regaining his senses, he reached into his back pocket only to find nothing there. Panicking, he shook Gilbert by the shoulders and shrieked, "Where did my wallet go? I'm dead if I can't find it! It has—"

"Whoa! Calm down, Charlie Brown!" the albino said as he finally managed to restrain the Canadian from choking him on accident. "I was being… not a creeper that stares at your ass and noticed that you leave your wallet in your right side pocket. And you didn't even bring it to school today. Ha. Kesesese. Uh, don't kill me?" he asked with a weak smile and a shrug.

Contrary to his expectations, Matthew actually calmed down, not seeming to be bothered at all that he was ogled at earlier. "Whew, I got scared for a second. Oh. I didn't notice earlier since I didn't eat lunch today, eh." Then, he processed what Gilbert had said. "Wait. You stared at my a—er, rear end?" he asked incredulously.

"Hey, give more credit to yourself kid! If your ass if worth staring at, then you're probably pretty damn hot! I don't get why people don't notice you," he said while rolling his eyes.

He flushed at the comment and said, "Uh, thanks? Anyway, I really do need to go now, so I guess I need to figure out a way…"

Gilbert brightened up a bit. "Birdie, you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

Scared of what might come next, he answered weakly, "No…? I don't get this… wait. What?"

The German's grin was not scaring him. No, not at all. Without even asking the Canadian anything else, he shouted, "Well now you will with the awesomeness of yours truly!"

Dragging Matthew out of the bar and shouting something to Lovino, who responded back angrily but apparently did not pursue the subject further due to harassment from both Antonio and Francis, Gilbert made his way by speedwalking to a nearby house.

He did not wait for the other to question him and simply said, "The Vargases live really close, and Lovino leaves his bike outside with a lock. Being the awesome me, I got the combination to his lock."

In an inhuman speed, he somehow had gotten a motorbike started with a gaping Canadian as his only audience. "Holy cow, what does Lovino do with a bike?"

The Prussian shrugged and said, "I don't know. Rich kid." He then promptly pulled the shocked boy onto the seat, and before the other realized, they were speeding off into the night.

* * *

><p>When Matthew arrived on his doorstep, he felt like throwing up, though he did admit it was fun. On the way, he somehow managed to get Gilbert to admit that it was Antonio who had given him the combination, when Lovino had made him swear not to tell anyone else. Apparently it didn't work.<p>

Said Prussian had waved goodbye and left as quickly as he dropped him off, but not without a swift peck to the forehead, which the Canadian did not blush at. The Nile was most definitely a river in Egypt… unlike Alfred he actually knew what he was studying and the geographic locations of countries and other important landmarks in Europe.

Frightened, he somehow gathered up enough courage to ring the doorbell after five minutes of staring at the door. Cursing in French under his breath that he had to forget his wallet and therefore not have his keys, he was startled when the door swung open and his beautiful yet sleepy mother stood rubbing her eyes.

"Hi, sweetie," Amelia Jones made out as she yawned. Matthew was shocked that his mother didn't seem to be worried at all. "Are you cold? You should come in…" She quickly ushered her son inside and slammed the door. "Alfred was worried sick, I don't even know why. He goes out practically every other night so why not you?" she mumbled.

Patting her son affectionately on the head while ignoring his intelligible stuttering, Mrs. Jones cheerfully and groggily continued in their one-sided dialogue, "Mattie, you're finally growing up, I'm so proud. You were so reclusive I thought you were sick in the head or something." She hugged him tight, then toddled off in her bathrobe back to bed.

The Canadian was completely confused as to how lenient his mother was. He figured living with Alfred made her like that. He made his way slowly up the staircase, hoping he could sneak into his room and that Alfred was asleep like a rock as usual.

However, said brother was not nearly as forgiving as their mother. "Mattieeeeeeee." The culprit was crossing his arms and tapping his feet impatiently at the head of the staircase. His twin would have been very frightened if he hadn't decided to change pajamas and wear his bear pajamas and fluffy bunny slippers.

Matthew was going to thank Arthur sometime for the gift, since right now it lessened his apprehension by about half. But he was still very scared, since rarely was Alfred ever serious. "Yes, brother?" he whispered, shaking minutely in his street clothes.

"Where the hell were you, you never go out!" he hissed angrily, keeping his voice low in case their mother chanced a look upstairs.

"Um, out with some friends?" he answered semi-truthfully. Inside, he thought, _you were the one who let Antonio and Lovino kidnap me, and Francis the day before! Question yourself as to why I was out late! _

His brother snorted. "Since when did you get friends?" Tired, he rubbed his eyes. "Shit, let's go back to our rooms." Alfred turned back into his room, until Matthew spoke up.

Angry at the earlier comment, he spoke in a deadly silent tone. "Alfred, what do you mean I have no friends?"

"Exactly what I mean, why?" his clueless brother continued, not realizing his words stung.

"I… fuck you Alfred," the normally peaceful brother stated in his normal volume, but with a violent ring hidden deep inside. He calmly stomped up the stairs, but it was imperceptible as the Canadian hated being loud. Only Alfred, who had lived with him for fifteen years, noticed the fury in his brother's actions.

Narrowing his blue eyes, he snapped, "Take a fucking chill pill, I was just stating the truth! And how do I know you're not doing drug with Lars? Well, he's a nice guy, but what if that commie bastard decided to—"

"Alfred, I said, shut up, didn't I?" Matthew said while halfway to his room.

"Er, no you didn't Mattie. All you said was 'fuck you' which was totally undeserved on my heroic part. And since when did you ever interrupt people in the middle of their sentence?" The last part of the question was simple curiosity his brother stated, but Matthew was already angry and losing his self-control.

"Ever since I decided I fucking had enough of this, Alfred F. Jones," his voice still barely above a whisper but carrying across the distance perfectly fine from the sharpness. "Just go bathe in your damn spotlight and leave me to my corner! At least don't get involved in my fucking business, eh?"

Matthew never shouted. Unless he was in hockey mode. Even when angry, he still kept his level voice. And now Alfred really was beginning to be scared. "Whoa, shit, who died today?" he asked, having no sense of self-preservation.

"It's going to be you if you—" Matthew snarled before being interrupted.

"_Matthew Williams. Alfred F. Jones_. If you do not cut off this nonsense, I _swear_ I'm going to disable your video game set and doodle on your stuffed panda!" an angry voice shouted from below.

"But mom, he started it!" Alfred whined in his trademark kiddy voice.

By now Matthew had lost all sense of anger again after hearing his brother's ridiculously childish attempt to escape punishment. The bunny slippers helped. Facepalming, he wondered why he even tried to start a fight with his brother.

"Sirs, I really am going to go through my threats if you two do not make up right now."

"But _mom_!"

"It's not a panda, eh. Kumamojo's a polar bear."

Their mother was a lenient person. But she was threatening when she chose to be. "Counting from ten… nine…"

By now Matthew was good at this. He had said sorry so many times it didn't faze him at all. Plus, he really was sorry. He did worry his brother, even if Alfred said hurtful things and looked like he didn't care at all. "Sorry, Al."

The cheery American pouted, but grinned and said, "Sorry Mattie. Just tell me next time you disappear so I remember to actually do my math homework… oh shit. I remember why I was looking for you." He sheepishly scratched his head. "I kinda… forgot to do it. Mattie?"

By now their mom was satisfied with the outcome, and retreated back to the bedroom, pretending to not hear what Alfred had just asked of his twin.

Those puppy dog eyes. The only person who was immune to them was their mom. Second place but much further behind was Matthew, and third was Arthur, though the Brit really had just the tiniest bit more resistance than the average schoolgirl. "Ugh, fine Alfred, but you do realize it's 2:00 in the morning?"

"Yeah… so?"

"Normally you ask me for favors at eleven, so now I have less time." Sighing, the Canadian picked up a pencil and his brother's textbook. Why did he do this for Alfred again?

Oh yeah, those goddamned eyes. Shoot. And Matthew had forgotten to do his own homework. Oh god… at least the teachers never noticed him anyway so he could get away with doing it in class or even just cutting class. But as he was still stinging from the ever-so-ignorant-brother's remarks, he decided his brother could suffer just a little bit.

After all, doing the wrong page of the homework was something completely Alfred-like and his teacher would just sigh and mark yet another zero in the scorebook.

Then he could finally pull yet another all-nighter and finish up those essays. Matthew was surprised. He could pull a new record for staying awake the longest and he didn't even feel tired.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry I lied D: But I didn't want them to get booted out of this one since my head was hurting and I couldn't think of anything good happening. T_T Sorry! Not to mention I didn't have internet when I started writing and couldn't look at my previous spoiler…

Lame chapter title... I cannot think of good names for my life. :/

I love torturing people. Sorry Mattie. And really, I'm sorry he lost his anger so quickly, but he strikes me as a person who has a grudge hidden deep inside that will only pop up occasionally and otherwise he would still be buddy-buddy with that person. Assuming they notice him.

Cuba didn't mistake him for once! Because he reasoned that Arthur wouldn't take Alfred drinking.

This chapter gets on my nerves a bit, but I have a migraine and it passes. I had to edit out a large chunk that just wasn't making any sense to me at all, so here you have the completed version.

I want Amelia as my mom… her punishments seem rather strange. Doodling on a stuffed bear?

And yes, Arthur did send Alfred bunny slippers. He sent Matthew the bear pajamas… but then Alfred took them anyway. Lol. Matthew didn't mind, he had to admit they were a little too childish, and they weren't polar bears. He's a picky guy.

And I know Gilbert seems sober, or at least his normal self. One: I think he's a strong drinker. Two: His sober self seems drunk in the first place. -_- Sorry Prussia, I do think you're awesome but…

England is totally being a grammar nazi even when drunk. Somehow the thought amused me. And some of those sentences up there. I think I just butchered the English language. What would Arthur think?

Whoa. The word count. 3600ish of story content (not including A/Ns or title) I did not know I was capable of writing at all.

Recap: They go to a bar, where Matthew meets Carlos who tells him it belongs to the Vargases, so they don't get kicked out. Matthew and Gilbert talk, they finally agree on faking the relationship, and when Matt gets home, Alfred is a bit miffed. Argument starts and ends quickly.

Next chapter spoilers: Matthew wants to die at the odd looks and attention he's been getting. It's certainly not good for his health when a mysterious message pops up in his inbox. Or two.

P.S. I finally decided on a villain! Yay… sorry, but I think this guy is overused too. At least it's not as overused as Russia. Also, if anyone does not like seeing him as the villain on future storylines, I apologize. I like this character quite a bit, but for what I wanted to do he fit quite well. Oh snap, I just gave out the gender didn't I? Review for more chapters and fluffy flying mint bunny slippers! And if anything seems off or need fixing, review as well! Cause it brings motivation to me! :D


	4. Chapter 4: Tricks

**A/N:** Well, lucky you guys, I'm ragequitting on my super hard homework and therefore am working on fanfics. You guys should be grateful that my schoolwork is an ass and my internet was down. XD Don't. Please. I can't live without Internet, and plus, without internet I can't really upload these. **Warning:** **following this sentence there will either be a bunch of useless rambles, replies to reviews, or stuff already mentioned in chapter one, so you can skip to the story if you are not interested. **

Chelseaj500: He's not very hard to guess… xD Though it is true I haven't introduced a lot of characters including him. I think I will mass introduce them some later chapter.

MakenshiCrona: I want those slippers too. And Arthur is very fun to write. He is so funny.

whovianstudent: Thanks for popping in. :)

Moon made of Ink: …That description sounds bad. That didn't even cross my mind. O.O

Farfetched Fairy: Like I said, no offense taken at all. I'm happy you bothered to post a review at all. ^^ I practically jump every time my phone buzzes with a new email, hoping it's my fanfiction alerts. XD

Below is copy pasted:

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, nyancat would make a cameo and America would be obsessed with it, as well as picking fights with England over which is better, poptart cats or unicorns.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 4: Tricks<span>  
><strong>

Never has Matthew Williams wanted to disappear into thin air more in his life. Not even when Arthur tried forcefeeding Alfred scones but mistook Matthew for Alfred again. He couldn't eat anything else for days after the incident. But as of now, he forgot all about the Brit's slimy creations and instead wanted to hit his head on a wall and maybe die, so he didn't have to deal with the resulting mess.

At the lunch tables, Gilbert had apparently gotten help from Feliciano in making a banner hanging across the makeshift roof above.

"Celebrating the awesome matrimony of Gilbert 'Awesome' Beilschmidt and Matthew 'Birdie' Williams Beilschmidt!"

And there were fluffy yellow chicks doodled everywhere, courtesy of Feliciano. It was a good thing nearly no one knew who he was, so it wasn't exactly too hard to pretend he didn't exist, but Matthew was dreading when someone finally managed to catch onto his name. Quietly slipping away, he did not notice the person creeping up behind him until he felt himself slung up on someone's shoulder again. What was with these people and their obsession with carrying others like a potato sack?

Looking down with no perverted intentions at all, because Matthew was not Francis, he recognized the view from the day before. The jeans that were riding a bit too low and showing the colorful red and yellow-orange boxers were a dead giveaway as well, and the Canadian marveled at the loyalty of Gilbert's friends.

"_Lo siento Mateo_, but Gilly needs his boyfriend to be with him at the celebration!" his captor cheerily commented.

Setting him down just like he would with a real sack of potatoes onto the table, Antonio grinned his normal smile and clambered on as well. To the Canadian's dismay, he was hoisted up by two more pairs of strong arms and when finally up at full height, was staring straight into the crimson eyes of Gilbert. "Kesesese, totally awesome, right?" Matthew's knees felt like buckling but Francis's hands eerily near his butt but holding up his waist kept him from falling. Gilbert hooked an arm around the other's shoulder and shouted into a microphone, which Matthew did not notice at all until he actually took it out.

Widening his eyes, he realized it was hooked to the school PA as soon as the albino's first words came booming out. "Yo minions! Bow down to the awesome queen the King of Awesomeness has personally hand-picked!"

"He's Matthew?"

"Damn, I thought that was Jones!"

"Never heard of this kid!"

"Nice going Beilschmidt!"

"Ve! Congratulations Gilly-nii!"

"Gilbert!" a shriek pierced the rest of the noises of the crowds watching the spectacle with amusement. Pushing her way to the front, the girl that emerged from the mob of people was immediately recognized by Matthew, who was currently somewhat dizzy and felt like puking. She was Elizaveta Hedervary, the Hungarian student who was certainly very beautiful but had very odd tastes. "Hey Gilbert! You actually picked someone up for real?" she grinned from below while waving her right hand enthusiastically.

"Heck yea, psycho frying pan girl!" the albino responded just as cheerily. Matthew groaned, and felt an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He just knew trouble was going to come out of this, with Francis smiling creepily and Gilbert laughing like a maniac. Luckily, Antonio was turning to the side somewhere, waving at someone else, presumably Lovino.

However, to add to his misfortunes, Elizaveta grinned, possibly even more unnerving than either of the two boys. "Oh, you're dead Gil. But after I get pictures, you hear? Plus, the kid you hooked up with is pretty cute!"

Matthew flushed at the compliment, but was very worried at the "pictures" she mentioned. Gilbert seemed to have noticed. He sent a small glare over the girl and said, "Shit, Lizzie! Don't go around stealing glances at Mattie! He's mine, kay? Stick to your perverted man-on-man fantasies!"

The chorus of high-pitched "aw's" that went throughout the crowd made Matthew shudder, but Elizaveta continued smiling even wider. "Aw, Gilly's being possessive!" she cooed while quickly whipping out her cellphone and snapping a couple of shots.

A loud coughing noise immediately cleared the area of students as every dashed out the place, leaving behind the four on the table and Lovino, who apparently was still arguing with Antonio and not noticing everyone else leave. Matthew widened his eyes. There was the vice principal glaring at them while tapping his feet.

"Oh… hello?" the boy muttered meekly, frightened since he did not want any part in this.

Gilbert however had a completely different approach. Muttering something along the lines of, "stupid traitor frying pan bitch" and shooting a warning glare to Francis, he leaped off the table and ran up to the man, starting a heated conversation. After a while, the elder Beilschmidt wearily smacked his own face and turned away, apparently tired from just arguing with the boy. The albino bounced back giddily and shouted, "Woot! Birdie, you don't have to worry about your record and stuff, I already told my old man it wasn't your problem."

Matthew was touched that his "boyfriend" was considerate enough to figure out he did not want his academics to be harmed. However, any respect was soon dissipated when the boy in question slung his arm around the Canadian's shoulder and said, "That means you can skip class with me! If you say we kidnapped you they won't do anything about it, kesesese."

He adamantly refused. "Gilbert, but I still need to go to class to learn!"

"Who gives a shit about school? …wait, you do, huh? Aw, I thought you were better than that," the Prussian pouted. "Well, you're cute so I forgive you. And Arthur's awesome so I let him be a wuss and go on and on about school. So, where's your next class? Francypants can get the secretary to write you a late pass, he's pretty much got her hooked," he said with a snort.

Francis feigned offense and exclaimed, "Mon dieu, it's not my fault my charms were too much for her to bear!"

Gilbert snorted again while Matthew said, "I have Algebra II with Mrs. Thorn next and it's at the other side of the school… do you think I can make it?"

The albino widened his eyes. "Shit, I have her too! Damn, you're taking Algebra II? And I'm a year older!" He flailed his arms while Matthew nervously chuckled upon hearing the bell ring.

"…apparently not…" he whispered in answer to his own question.

Gilbert stared at Francis hard so he whipped out a piece of paper and scribbled on it. The Canadian stared in shock as he was handed a late slip in perfect handwriting. "Used only in emergencies, but I can always sneak another one. You deserve it, oui?" his cousin winked.

Antonio was now cuddling Lovino, and since they weren't going to class anytime soon, Matthew was herded away by the two other sophomores. Uncomfortably placed in the middle of them, both of who were slightly taller than him because of age, Matthew was shaking because Francis's hands probably were itching from no one to grope, but he didn't want to anger Gilbert. Warily the Canadian eyed his cousin's hands, while the German was blissfully unaware of the two French-speaking people's dilemmas.

* * *

><p>When they finally arrived at the door, Francis waved them off and hid somewhere behind the hallways, presumably also skipping class, since he did not have that particular Algebra II class. Gilbert grinned and turned the knob, swaggering in while Matthew meekly followed, hoping he could be unnoticed once again.<p>

The teacher shot a glare at the albino and said, "Gilbert Beilschmidt, how nice of you to show up after, oh, two weeks of skipping?"

All she got was a shrug in reply and he made his way over to his seat, dropping down with a loud thud. However, Matthew slowly walked in, and for once she noticed. Narrowing her eyes, she hissed, "Who are you? You're not in this class, are you?"

Scared, he answered, "Uh, y-yes I am, my name is Matthew Williams…"

She scanned the list and looked in shock as she saw the last name on the list. Why didn't she remember that being there? Sighing, she was about to mark in a checkmark for being late, but then Gilbert spoke up, seeing what she was going to do. "Hey, the kid has a freaking pass, hag."

"Detention, Beilschmidt," she snapped, but then snatched the paper from the Canadian and erased her previous mark. The rest of the class was uneventful, except for the fact that the Canadian noticed a couple of odd glances his way, coupled with Gilbert's leer. Blushing, he set his head down and hoped he wouldn't be able to feel the eyes boring into his back.

* * *

><p>At lunch, he was about to go sit in some obscure corner, but then Lovino had found him while they were going out of their history class. "Oh no way kid, you're not getting away from those bastards if I have to sit with them," he muttered as he dragged the Canadian along.<p>

The group at the table was surprisingly big. He knew they were popular, but not that popular. Matthew had expected a few shallow friends of theirs to randomly sit there, but the sight before him showed that everyone at the table knew each other well… a little too well from the arguments that were starting. He felt uncomfortable being the odd one out, since while he could name most of the people, none of them really knew him or vice versa.

Carefully picking a seat near Francis but not too near, he found out the person who was acting as a buffer between him and Francis was no other than Arthur, whose head was facedown on the table. Apparently he was either having a really bad hangover or he was sleeping.

"Arthur?" he asked.

"Mhmm… Al—wait, you're Matthew. What do you need?" he mumbled into the table, not even lifting his head.

"Oh, just wondering if you were okay, you drank a lot yesterday."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid frog and stupid Prussian," was his reply. Apparently a hungover Arthur was just slightly better than a drunk Arthur in that he didn't slur his words and had bad grammar.

Shrugging, the Canadian picked at his food, until the seat right next to him was suddenly taken. When he turned to see, he saw sparkling green eyes staring back. Elizaveta promptly hugged him and said, "You're so cute! It's amazing, that egotistical idiot actually has such a cute boyfriend!" she squealed while crushing the boy's lungs.

When she finally let go, she immediately drifted off to the side and started to text on her phone. Then the Prussian had moved from his original spot and planted himself in between the two, shoving the girl off a bit in the process. "Hey bitch, what did I say about birdie?" he snapped.

Though she wanted to hit him with her frying pan badly, she decided against it because she needed to send Kiku her latest pictures. The next best choice was just to ignore the comment and reply, "Yeah yeah, but he's cute, and it's not like I'm going to steal him form you."

Gilbert frowned a bit at this, almost imperceptibly, but then the troublemaking grin he usually had grew on his face. He snatched the phone out of her hands and quickly sent something. Alarmed, the Hungarian began a tug of war with him with the phone, and the Canadian was amazed the girl had enough strength to fight on par with the albino.

The phone vibrated with a reply, and when she snatched it out of his hands with a sudden burst of energy, she quickly read the reply and widened her eyes. Looking around a bit, suddenly she saw a familiar figure walking over to their table. Excited, she ran off and Gilbert grinned at Matthew. "It's so fucking easy to get rid of her."

However, now she was back in a heartbeat, and Matthew saw Kiku and Alfred standing with her. The Asian was stoic as usual, while Alfred had a confused look on his face. "Mattie? Huh, I thought you'd be around the commies… not that it's bad away from them but I didn't know you know these people, well except Artie and Francypants but still I didn't—"

"Whoa! Shit Jones, stop leaking out whatever hero crap you normally spew, because I'm way awesomer!" Gilbert snapped while hugging tightly to Matthew despite his attempts to escape.

Narrowing his eyes, the American hissed, "What are you doing to my brother? Fucking let go of him evil albino!"

"I got claims on him, he even lets, so suck it dickwad."

Matthew was scared. He knew Alfred didn't like Gilbert very much, but he didn't know they hated each other. Though he was still against being his boyfriend, he thought the German was a nice guy once you get past his faults.

Suddenly the mop of blond hair next to him spoke up. "You know that they really don't hate each other. It's just that their egos are too big to fit into one room, but if you distract them they're as good as buddies."

Distracted the American was, as he changed targets and started to prod Arthur with his finger. "Hey Artie! Aaaaartieeeee. Wake up already, British dude!"

"I am not just a 'British dude', I have a name. Go the bloody hell away, American idiot."

After the two had started a fight, Francis pulled up his chair to be closer to the Canadian, while the boy tried his best to lean away as far as he could from his cousin. The Frenchman chuckled to him, "Don't worry _mon ami_, Gilly and Alfred actually are very good friends, just that they always pick a fight with each other, just like _Angleterre_ and _moi, non_?"

"I am not your bloody friend, frog, and Alfred, fucking let go of me already!"

"No Artie, not until you call me 'Al'!"

"Not on my bloody life!"

Ignoring them, Francis continued, "Alfred and Gilbert cannot fit their egos into one room, as Angleterre said, but when they actually work together they can be great, like that one time they both bullied poor Angleterre until he cried himself to sleep that night." Matthew giggled and suddenly remembered the time his twelve-year-old brother had ganged up on Arthur with another kid so they could go play at his house. He didn't know that kid was Gilbert though.

The albino in question rolled his eyes and said, "Franny, that is none of your business, and as far as my awesomeness is concerned, I don't know that guy. Not at all."

Pleased to see that his "boyfriend" wasn't yelling at his brother or vice versa, Matthew slightly relaxed. Only slightly.

* * *

><p>By an amazing miracle he had managed to escape the table when he had finished, not wanting to stay behind feeling left out even though Gilbert always paid attention to him. It was that which actually drove him away, since he had never felt so watched before in his life.<p>

Walking through the hallways wasn't easy either, girls were whispering while glancing in his direction and he received a few glares and some giggles from others.

Someone had tripped him once, and he thought he heard a "fag" and it stung. Feeling tears well up in his eyes, he picked up whatever he dropped and rushed forward to his locker, trying his best to ignore the attention he was finally getting.

It shouldn't be Gilbert's fault… was it? The Canadian did not want to blame the carefree boy.

Though it was a bit too much when he had been stopped twice, once by a group of girls and another by some buff jock troupe. Both had congratulated him on actually getting into a relationship with Gilbert, but there was a sting of jealousy (was it?) hidden inside some of the girls' empty words. The jocks probably were just having fun, though.

Matthew couldn't take it. Perhaps he hadn't been noticed for such a long time he didn't know how to deal with it, so he ran to the bathroom as inconspicuously as he could and started to sob in a stall. He stopped abruptly when he heard footsteps coming in, and a few familiar voices though he couldn't pinpoint exactly who. Quickly drawing his legs up and locking the stall door, he watched as the group made their way in while conversing in front of his stall. They were whispering, so the voices were muffled and he couldn't hear very clearly.

There were three pairs of shoes in front of his stall, and he recognized one pair. They were the very fancy dress shoes Francis always wore, and after listening in while holding his breath, he could hear a few snippets of French in the conversation. The other two were a mystery, but after listening longer, he realized that his first guess, the Bad Friend Trio, was incorrect as neither of the voices sounded like Gilbert or Antonio.

"…progress…important…"

"…all…_l'amour_! But…"

"Shut…der needs..."

He almost fell off the toilet when he heard a loud shout. "Francypants! That's where you were, Toni was looking for you! And did you see Mattie anywhere?" Matthew immediately recognized the loud German's coarse voice.

"Non, I did not see _mon petit Mathieu_. Maybe you could look—"

"Hey, someone's in the stall. Are they hiding or something?" Gilbert walked up to the door and rattled it a few times. "Hey, I was right, the door's locked."

Holding his breath in, Matthew squeezed his eyes shut and wished he was invisible, afraid to be found out.

There was a thud as someone fell. "OW! _Scheiße_, why'd you drop me?" Matthew opened his eyes a crack and saw Gilbert rubbing his back in the small space between the stall door and the toilet. Before he could make a noise, the Prussia darted forward and clamped a hand over the Canadian's mouth, and quickly shouted to the ones outside, "Hey, I'm going to take a dump while I'm at it. There's no one in here anyway, kesesese."

"Gilly—what are you—"

"I'm taking my pants off! I'm sitting on the toilet, and now I'm going to start to awesomely crap!"

"Bruder, I don't think we need to hear your—"

"Shit, this one's big! I need privacy, let me crap in peace, guys!"

"Gilbert, you're not even facing outwards… if you were actually going to poop your pants would be down and there would be shit on the floor already."

"Er, yes, just go, before I really do shit on the floor. Cause I need to poop in peace."

"Whatever you say, Gilbert-san."

There was a shuffling of feet as the trio left, and the Canadian just realized the other two talking to Francis were Ludwig and Kiku. Since when did they talk to Francis? He was still more confused as to why the German had tried to keep him from talking, but now he felt the necessity to breathe. Yanking the offending hand off his mouth and taking in a few deep breaths, the Canadian finally managed to regain the oxygen his body was deprived of.

"Hey, you alright?" his companion asked him.

After a long silence while the blond tried to get his breathing back to normal, he finally spoke up, "Eh, I think I'm good now. What was that for?"

"Franny would go ballistic if he saw his 'mon pe—pe-something Mathieu' crying in a toilet stall all alone," he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Plus, can't let my boyfriend cry, right?"

The boy was shocked speechless as two arms wrapped around him. As soon as they had done their purpose, they had left him and he felt himself missing the warmth, but Matthew did not comment. "Better now, Birdie?"

He nodded and wiped the grime off of his eyes. With a nod, the Prussian tried to unlock the door, but it had jammed so he kicked it as hard as he could, breaking it down. A few seconds later, there suddenly was a wet paper towel thrown in the Canadian's face. "Wipe it up, so no one notices."

Obeying the other, Matthew cleaned himself up as best as he could and made his way slowly out of the stall. The German had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was seeing something else through the Canadian. With a wave of his hand, he started to walk out the door, beckoning for the boy to follow. "Kesesese, we should get going now so I can prank_ bruder_ when he goes to his next class," he added.

Matthew was suddenly sure that the earlier expression was only a trick of the light.

* * *

><p>The remainder of the school day could be said as uneventful, besides him finding out that Gilbert was in half his classes. He just never knew because the albino hardly attended class at all. It was interesting to note the teachers' reactions when they saw the Prussian walk into class. None of them were positive though. Despite Gilbert's best efforts to have him ditch class with him, he flatly refused no matter how much the other pouted, and after school he had hockey practice. Waving the other off, he happily walked to the locker rooms, somewhat smiling at the fact that no one would dare make fun of him when he had a hockey stick in hand.<p>

To his surprise, Matthew, upon leaving the building after practice had finished, found Gilbert out cold on a bench outside the locker rooms. Touched that the other had waited for him, he sat down while returning the favor by waiting until he woke up. It would be rude to wake him. About an hour later he was somewhat regretting his decision, since the German slept like a rock. The whole time he had already finished the little homework he had by writing on his lap while trying his best to ignore the random giggles coming from girls passing by.

"Oh, Gilbert. Why do I bother?" he mumbled to himself as he finished packing up. Leaning back on the bench, he found himself getting drowsier and drowsier as the sunrays warmed him up. Before he could snap back to reality, he had already drifted off to dreamland.

* * *

><p>Waking up in a bed, Matthew jumped up with a shout. He couldn't really remember what had happened between when he had packed up his books and now. Quickly scanning the room, he was relieved to see that it was his own room. He took a look at his wristwatch and saw the numbers flashing. Thankfully it was only 7:00 P.M or so.<p>

The Canadian pulled up the chair to his computer and turned the system on. While waiting for it to finish, he quickly searched the room for his backpack and found that it was next to his bed. However, his eyes finally noticed that his window was wide open, and a bit worried he scanned the room to see if anything was missing. Nothing seemed out of place. Still worried, he took a look outside the window to see if there was anything noticeable. All he saw was the peaceful neighborhood. Confused, he probably figured that his mom opened the window in order for him to have some fresh air.

By now the computer had finished loading and he groaned quietly as he found he had new mail. There were more commission e-mails, but thankfully there were only four. Before he checked on the new ones, he sent the others their completed essays, cursing quietly to himself in French when he accidentally misclicked and sent it to the wrong address. Thankfully it was only his personal e-mail account.

Clicking on the first e-mail in the list, he saw it was his own science class's assignment that was given today. However, it was due two weeks or so from now. Shrugging his shoulder, he figured this person was an early starter. As he opened the next message, he was slightly shocked.

There was actually a message included with the attachment, the project also from his science class.

_i need u 2 rite dis 4 me kthxbai- bt do it good cuz I rly need 2 pas dis semtrse  
><em>

_ps do it quick cuz i need smbdy 2 profrede it l8r  
><em>

Raising an eyebrow, he scanned the terribly written message. Arthur would go insane if he saw this. Matthew looked at the e-mail address and it was "flufflz000 at emailprovider . com," one that he did not recognize.

However, his heart skipped a beat when he clicked on the next letter.

_I know who you are. _

All he could do was scream like a girl.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Crappy writing is crappy. So is cliffhanger. There's been too many plot bunnies in my head and I kinda died xD So did my writing skills. Anyway, Mr. Villain won't pop up for some time, though he will be introduced.

I hated writing this and hit my head on a wall, since this sucked really bad. Just filler and fluff and random things that should be mentioned before anything really starts.

About the craptastic title, it was conceived when I thought about the "trick of the light" thing that Matthew mentions. Cause appearances can be deceiving! :D

Recap: Fluff. That's all you need to know. :D Plus two odd messages find their way into his mailing system...

Next chapter spoilers: That was definitely a crash that Matthew heard. Running towards the mess, he finds something he never expected to see.

Randomness, sorry if you don't like this one, I promise it'll get more interesting later.

Review for a replica of Texas! (America's glasses)


	5. Chapter 5: Conspiracy and Memories

**A/N:** Sorry for lateness, as I can tell you guys were not pleased by the reviews. X.x Well life's a bitch, and when you're procrastinating on about 3 projects and on a week-long vacation without internet it's not good for fanfic updating. And I got a tumblr, which wasted hours of my time. By the way, I just learned Romania had been made official some time ago and have taken a liking to him. Wondering if you guys would want him in the fic? Leave a review if you approve or disapprove. Anyway, in time for Prussia's birthday at least! Anyway, this is just background info and fluff. Not much progression here. XD **Warning:** **following this sentence there will either be a bunch of useless rambles, replies to reviews, or stuff already mentioned in chapter one, so you can skip to the story if you are not interested.**

Chelseaj500: He's not specifically Gil's enemy. If you look at it in a very roundabout way and ship a certain pairing and watched a certain episode, then very indirectly he is. XD Though he's used as a generic villain as well.

Moon made of Ink: Eh, I get confused sometimes as well. :)

cosplaythief: If you do this, then soon your head will be overrun by crossing plots… xD Anyway, I like the shoulder carry more ever since I saw Germany carry Italy like that. Somehow a princess hug isn't as funny. Gil didn't ask is because he knows about the teasing, and probably didn't want Matthew to explain himself again. Thanks for the review!

MakenshiCrona: That e-mail killed me to write too. XD

blurry19: He looks like a girl and sounds a bit like one. :p

Yuu-chi: D: I'm working on it!

Night13: Thanks for the review! (didn't have anything to say)

SupaCrazee: Sorry this is a month late, but look above if you want to see what hell I went through. X.x But thanks for attempting to get me back!

The Windy Thing: No, I am not doing this on purpose. Procrastinating takes a big chunk of your time, and I apologize for nearly killing you or any other readers. I am flattered, but not sure if I should be worried about angry reviewers outside my window pressing for updates. :)

Below is copy pasted:

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, America could see Flying Mint Bunny.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Conspiracy and Memories<strong>

Alfred came running to his brother's room at the scream. Seeing the door closed, he quickly yanked on the knob only to pull it off, the he decided to be a hero and enter grandly by kicking the door down and shouting, "HEY BRO! The hero has come to save you!"

Matthew almost burst his eardrums, but after so many close encounters, he learned to switch tabs with lightning reflexes. But then Alfred had to break his eardrum and look suspiciously at his brother, who was trying his best to conceal the screen just in case he left anything there.

"Yo, what are you doing?"

"I was playing a game."

"Why are you hiding it?"

"Uh… it's too scary for your eyes. I freaked when something popped out of nowhere."

"…No way, I can take it! I'm the hero!"

Matthew sighed. He needed to find a way out of this awkward situation he landed himself in. "Turn around for a second, or else you won't be surprised." His brother bought the excuse and then turned around whistling. Within a few seconds he clicked a random file in his "never ever look at" folder.

"Okay, you can turn around now."

"Dude, that took way too long. There's nothing there though—HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!" he shrieked and pointed at the screen.

"Is it that sca- EEEEEE!" his twin screamed in unison with his brother once he turned to look.

A long time ago, Francis had apparently thought it was a good joke, since he sent his cousins a picture of him wearing nothing. Except a rose on his vital regions and a cat ears hair band. Putting a hand over his eyes the Canadian rushed forward and blindly groped for the power button and force shut it down.

"God, what was that?" his brother asked dazed. Matthew choked in response and made a silent vow to always check what tabs he happened to pull up. He remembered now that Alfred probably had forgotten about it some time ago, so he thought it best not to elaborate and scar his brother further.

"I told you so, Mr. I-am-scared-of-ghosts," the Canadian sighed, trying to figure out the best way to turn on his computer without seeing the horrific image again.

"But that wasn't even a ghost! What the hell were you looking at?" his brother whined.

Sighing thankfully that his brother didn't have much of an attention span, he answered, "I misclicked. I meant to show something else, apparently my mouse wasn't cooperating."

This was a good enough explanation for the American, though he left the room with a what he hoped was a suspecting glance, though Matthew personally thought it was just a really bad squint.

But back to pressing matters, he scanned over the message. The email was sent from one of those one-time use email providers, so he groaned a bit in worry. Maybe this person was bluffing? Holding firmly to this comforting thought, the Canadian raced downstairs once he heard the doorbell ring. Alfred wouldn't answer it, since he didn't say any friends would be coming over.

Hoping it would be their mother, or at least not a persistent salesman, the blond slowly opened the door. In relief, he swung it wide open once Mrs. Jones came in holding a bunch of groceries. The convenience store was conveniently located very near to their house anyway, so Mrs. Jones was able to walk rather than use her car. What Matthew was not prepared for was the cheeky grin he received from a certain albino following her in.

"Honey, this nice kid brought you home this afternoon," she yawned, as if that would explain everything. "Oh, and he even helped me carry the groceries we needed."

"B-but you d-don't randomly accept st-strangers into the house!" he squeaked.

Gilbert dropped the bags he was holding and pat Matthew's head. "Ha ha, very funny, Birdie. I'm not a stranger if I'm your b-"

Before he could continue, the Canadian widened his eyes and shouted, "EH!"

"-friend," the German concluded. Mrs. Jones didn't seem to hear what he just said, so all was still going well for Matthew.

"Yes, he's a good friend. You should get more, you know." Stuffing the newly bought groceries into the fridge, the mother slammed the door shut and turned to their guest. "Want to stay over for dinner? Matt can cook. I don't feel up to it tonight."

The Canadian groaned and tried his best to inch slowly away, but two pairs of eyes were locked on him and preventing any easy escape. "Yes, ma'm," Gilbert grinned and mock-saluted. "This kid didn't cook for me yet, and everyone has to cook for the awesome me. Except Arthur."

Snorting at the jab to his British friend, the Canadian sighed and resigned himself to his fate. Opening the fridge door again while some stuff poured out due to Amelia's carelessness, Matthew set to work as the pair, which would soon be his worst nightmare, conversed. Slightly annoyed a bit later, he commented, "Hey Gilbert, you're not hitting on my mom, are you?" Pancakes for dinner wasn't exactly a very traditional thing, but he had finished a hasty broth and some pasta along with it. He figured he could at least have to pancakes to himself. Quickly putting them on a plate, he took out the maple syrup from the cabinet.

The German snickered and them wryly replied, "Oh, so you're jealous? Don't worry, the awesome me is faithful to his boyfriend."

There was silence except for the crackle of the stove as Matthew realized he let the word slip. It was broken when Mrs. Jones simply said, "Oh. So he's your _boy_friend. No worries, I knew you were always the gay one, but I'm not sure what your father will say." There was a bit of wistfulness in her voice, but she quickly covered it with an added, "Well, I'm not sure about Alfred, he looks straight but who knows."

Matthew was about to protest and add in that it wasn't even a real relationship, but then the German by now had snuck up behind Matthew and had grabbed a pancake. "Who eats pancakes this late?" he frowned, but took a bite. Almost took a bite, actually. Matthew had snatched the pancake back and scolded, "No, you don't eat it like that! You have to add maple syrup and use a fork!"

Mrs. Jones carried the pot of stew over to the table, while Gilbert tried his best to get a taste of the pancakes. Matthew accidentally put too much of the syrup since he was being jostled, and the sweet liquid was dripping onto the floor. Finally relenting, the blond let go of the plate while the German took his hard-earned food with a fork.

Crimson eyes widening in surprise, he proceeded to inhale the remaining pancakes. When he was done, there was a mess on the floor and on his face, and both of his hosts could not help but laugh at how silly their guest looked. "Haha, even Alfred doesn't do that, eh," Matthew giggled. Ignoring their failed attempts to suppress their laughter, Gilbert went on ahead and tried to lick the syrup off his face.

Unable to contain himself further, the Canadian got a napkin and wiped the substance off his friend, who was somewhat disappointed he couldn't get any more of the delicious stuff. "Damnit, you have to cook for me again!" he whined as he saw the remainder of his meal being thrown into the sink for cleaning. "It's only fit to be eaten by awesome people!"

"I eat it too," a voice remarked from upstairs, and it was not pleased. Alfred was glaring daggers at both Matthew and his "boyfriend."

"Be civil," the violet-eyed twin pleaded.

Not saying anything, the German stuck his tongue out and threw an arm around the Canadian. He smirked challengingly at the blond upstairs.

Alfred narrowed his eyes and started to make his way down the stairs. "There's only enough room for one awesome person in this house, so you have to get out."

Amelia could not help but add fuel to the fire. Apparently she had taken a liking to Gilbert immediately, and felt like she could bug her son a bit. "So you concede he is 'awesome'? Anyway, it's not two awesome people filling up the room, it's your egos," she remarked while rolling her eyes.

* * *

><p>It turned into a long-distance name calling argument between the two boys, with Matthew frantically trying to stop them. When Mrs. Jones realized what she accidentally started, she shouted, "Gentlemen, stop this at once! You're not getting dinner if you speak one more harsh word!"<p>

Driven by the desire to eat, both promptly shut up and shuffled to their seats at the table. Mrs. Jones had received a text from her company, and had gone off to drive over for a little extra work and money. Matthew was awkwardly seated in between them, and felt bothered by what he remembered Arthur saying. "Hey… aren't you two friends?"

There was silence except for chewing noises.

"Um… hello? Gilbert? Alfred?"

Neither spoke up, and the Canadian felt terrified at the tension, so he abstained from asking again. A couple minutes later Alfred finished and stood up suddenly, almost knocking the table over in the process. He stiffly walked past Gilbert, but his twin suddenly spoke, "Wait, Al! You didn't answer my question!"

Slowly turning around, the American had a grin pasted onto his face. Matthew suddenly felt uncomfortable when the albino started laughing. "High five, bro!" Gilbert chortled as he extended a hand out to the blond.

Alfred willingly returned the gesture and started dancing. "Woot! We actually tricked Mattie!"

Feeling very embarrassed for no real reason, the shortest of them felt it was a good idea to get out of there before he got any redder. Slamming his room door as he jumped for his bed, Matthew buried his face into Kumajirou and started to laugh despite himself. If he stopped for a second, he could have still heard the other two cackling madly downstairs.

* * *

><p>He didn't know when and how, but Matthew had fallen asleep there on the pillow and was currently glaring at his clock. "Damnit… why couldn't it be later?" he groaned as he got up. It was still 2:00 or so, and he was feeling oddly awake since the moment he opened his eyes.<p>

Unlocking his door, he made his way outside and could hear Alfred's soft snores coming from the other room. "I guess Gilbert went home," he mumbled to himself with a giggle, remembering last night's events.

Walking back into his room and booting up his computer, he winced as he remembered what was there. Hoping that the program shut down rather than stayed open and got recovered, he sat down on the chair and spun around a couple times. Head much clearer now, despite being a little tired, he needed to figure out who sent that, and whether or not they were bluffing. Rather than risk screaming out again in the middle of the night, Matthew decided to open another browser, and quickly opened the mysterious message again.

_I know who you are._

The few words sent a chill through his bones, but he struggled to stay calm. Who knows what could happen if he was caught, but it was mostly his fault for taking up such a dangerous task.

He thought about checking the email address again, but promptly headdesked as it was a random combination of letters and numbers for a one-time use email. Biting his lip, he figured that if this person did not have an e-mail that could be replied to, he didn't expect and answer. Sighing and shoving himself away from the screen by turning on the rolling chair, Matthew got up and tried to go downstairs as quietly as he could, since he didn't want to wake his mother.

His thin frame and normal invisibleness helped a bit as he made it with no issues. He decided to find some leftovers, since he had insomnia and didn't want to look at his computer screen anymore. Chewing away at his food, which was takeout Alfred had brought home some time ago, he thought about how easily his mother took most things.

Though he was grateful, sometimes he felt she wasn't there anymore. Their father was rarely home, since his work always had him out somewhere. Not even Alfred missed the longing look in Mrs. Jones's face, and usually they always dodged the subject when he wasn't home. The occasional time when their father, James Williams, actually was home, it was awkward. He would head straight for the bedroom, exhausted after days of working, and Mrs. Jones could only wait for him to regain his senses before they could even have a decent conversation. Then, after the initial problem was gone, their mother was happy. Happy as she could be, with two twin sons who were "wonderfully behaved" and her husband finally home. However, within only a day or so, he would be off again.

Father. How would he react to knowing one of his sons was bisexual? He was not exactly a harsh man, but not nearly as lenient as their mother was. Somewhat dreading the next time he came home, despite how much it brightened their mother, Matthew suddenly remembered that he hadn't remembered to tell his mother they weren't really dating, and it was only a favor for Francis's friend. Sometime she would have to know.

Smiling a bit to himself, he wondered why the albino seemed to brighten his mood even after just a few days of really getting to know him. Speaking of that, he really needed to ask either his brother or Gilbert how they knew each other. He hadn't seen them playing when they were little.

All he remembered was when they were seven, a British boy and his family had moved in very close by. Thus they had befriended Arthur. Then, two years later, their cousin Francis, older by a year, had moved to the neighborhood. The twins already knew of the Frenchman's nature, but only around twelve did they really understand completely. Somehow the moment Arthur locked eyes with Francis, they began a rivalry, and still hate each other this day.

Still lost in his thoughts, he mindlessly chewed on his food, which was already soggy and tasteless.

Gilbert. Did he remember an albino boy? Not clearly, but he thought he remembered a head of white hair sometimes near his brother or Francis. Especially that time they had gone off and went to bully Arthur, but Matthew wasn't sure if he was making up memories in his head or if they were actual events.

Finishing the last of the food, he got up and trashed the box and all. Going back up to his room and facing the ominous email, he suddenly didn't feel like doing commissions, but had nothing better to do now. Something at the back of his mind bugged him though. He remembered someone with white hair, most likely Gilbert, but had he seen someone with red eyes? Racking his brains, Matthew could not think of any instances before the occasional time in high school when he had glanced towards Francis's direction and had first seen those eyes.

He had dismissed it, since he and Ivan both had odd purple colored irises, though of different shades. Strange eye colors weren't very amazing to him anymore, but he still took minimal interest in Gilbert's eyes.

Matthew knew he should just straight out ask him, but decided instead to send a text to Francis.

**[to: Francis]**

**Do you have Gilbert's number?**

**Within a few minutes, he had received a reply.**

**[to: Mathieu]**

**Oui. Why are you up this late?**

**(xxx) xxx-xxxx**

**[to: Francis]**

**Can't sleep. Thanks.**

**[to: Mathieu]**

**I can entertain you if you really cannot sleep… ;)**

**[to:Francis]**

**Sorry, but can I turn your offer down?**

Quickly typing in the number into his contacts list, he ignored the reply he received and pondered on whether he should text Gilbert.

**[to: Gilbert]**

**Hi. Thanks for dropping by.**

**[to: unknown]**

**Who the fuck are you and why do you have my number**

**[to: Gilbert]**

**This is Matthew. Canadian? With maple syrup?**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**Kesese, couldn't survive without awesomeness?**

**[to: Gilbert]**

**No, just said thanks. Night.**

Snapping his phone shit, Matthew wondered why he even bothered to. Shrugging, he went back to working as he ignored the multiple texts he got from both Francis and Gilbert, he assumed.

When he had finished with one essay, and it was almost time to cook pancakes again, he opened his phone again. Facepalming at the excess of messages he got, he glanced over them all.

**[to: Mathieu]**

**What a letdown.**

**[to: Mathieu]**

**Hello? Are you there?**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**lol why**

**[to: Mathieu]**

**Well, have a good sleep.**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**kesese, you're sleeping?**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**Reply**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**I swear on my awesomeness**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**REPLY**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**iF yOu DoN't RePlY**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**Birrrrrdddiiiiieeee**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**:(**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**reply?**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**pleeeeeaaaaaassseee**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**you suck**

Deciding that he would send only one reply, the irked Canadian pressed send.

**[to: Gilbert]**

**I just did. Now stop, please.**

Receiving a message rather quickly, he looked at it and almost jumped out of his chair.

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**outside ur house rite now**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**Come down. At least open your window!**

**[to: Gilbert]**

**Coming. Why does your grammar keep on changing from good to bad?**

**[to: Vögelchen]**

**cuz of reasons**

Quickly unlocking the window, Matthew glanced outside and surely enough, the albino was wearing a scarf over a t-shirt and very tight jeans. He was on his phone and didn't see the Canadian until Matthew spoke up.

"Aren't you cold?" he shouted across the distance.

Glancing up, the albino's expression changed and he returned, "Nope! Awesomeness doesn't get cold!" Waving frantically, he blew a fake kiss, which made Matthew simultaneously facepalm and blush. Running down the stairs, he intended to at least invite Gilbert into the house before he froze.

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><p><strong>AN:** That's it. -_- Sorry for lateness again, and quality may be bad since it's late here, timewise. XD I cannot write texts, since I don't text at all despite having a fancy phone. Anyway, no annoying really long a/n here, so just leave a review for more chapters! (It works. Really. I was almost considering putting it off another day until I realized it's Prussia's birthday and there were unhappy readers.)

Also, a review will keep Matthew safe from harm for now. Don't be cruel!


	6. Chapter 6: Englishman's Demise

**A/N: **This is somewhat rushed and incomplete, because I have part of the second part of this chapter done but got writer's block ;u; (As in I have the scene and stuff all planned out but I need to find a way to put it into words.) So I thought it best to at least post something. AND THE REVIEWS YOU GUYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY :D **Warning: following this sentence there will either be a bunch of useless rambles, replies to reviews, or stuff already mentioned in chapter one, so you can skip to the story if you are not interested.**

Chelseaj500: I know that feeling, when you try to write a normal fraternal fanfiction and it still ends up as your OTP xD And the villain is closer to Gilbert, somewhat, but that's all I will confirm for now. ^_^;; It would suck to know everything before any real action starts. XD

Moon made of Ink: Thanks :D

The Windy Thing: I didn't not take it badly, worry not, I just found it amusing and tried to make sense of what you meant. I'm not very good at this ;p Homestuck reference? I actually just started reading that so I'm not sure what you mean XD

Sora Moto: Vital region invading does not count as harm, no. That will come later ;D

AmayahAki: Uh…. Thanks? And no, no 5 dollars, I need to save up 20 dollars to give to Slenderman. :p

Night13: This is fluff xD

Electric Plum: Thanks! :D /eats cookie

Anonymous: Actually, he didn't freeze, I worded it awkwardly XD I meant before Gilbert would freeze outside, but I can sympathize with you on cliffhangers. I practically refresh my fics when they have a cliffhanger. ;u;

Asa-Taiyou: I'm trying to find the strips actually, I'm just technologically (search engine specifically) handicapped -_- I need to find pics of Bulgaria though. Anyway, thanks!

PancakeEntrails: Wow… if I sound stupid then I apologize, since I never tried ghostwriting. My essay skills are rock bottom. XD

Simple Shimmers: I actually want to try such a triangle. But am still deciding who to do on Matt's side. Gil has quite a few people I could try him with, but Matt's the hard one since everyone else seems taken or uninterested xD I'm thinking maybe Arthur, just a little crush he has. (I somewhat support this pairing, just like PruCan more :3)

Treegona: Someone's going to find out, and for the second part, you are half-right, and half-wrong. (duh, just stated the obvious xD /smacks self) Gil didn't send a commission actually, but I'll say that he doesn't actually know, but is suspicious. It's someone else completely random that figures it out.

Yuu Kawashima: I do that. The try to keep myself from laughing thing. XD

Iceestar: the BFT are naturally weird xD

Below is copy pasted:

**Warnings and Pairings:** Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.

**Summary:** Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, Finland would actually completely return Sweden's feelings. They're such a cute couple.

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Englishman's Demise<strong>

Gilbert didn't seem to be fazed at all by the cold air, even though he was wearing only a long sleeved shirt, a scarf, and a pair of the tightest jeans Matthew had ever seen. Quickly dragging his friend inside and adding a short reprimand, the Canadian quickly got to work and made Gilbert sit on the couch.

"I can't have distractions," he insisted while trying his best to seat the German.

Not explaining anything, he set to work in the kitchen, since now that both his mother and Gilbert would have pancakes, he had to make more than usual. His efforts were in vain when the albino sauntered into the kitchen anyway. "Kesese, lemme see what you're doing."

Matthew abruptly turned around, apron and all, and scolded, "Making pancakes, and if you bother me one more time I'm not going to anymore!"

At this the boy quickly stepped out of the room and shouted, "I'm an awesome little angel, now fucking hurry up with the food!"

Ignoring the goading remark, he continued to do what he did best (or best after writing essays and being invisible) with minimal distractions from the albino. The German had impeccable timing—he rushed into the room the moment Matthew had finished two plate of pancakes. As he grabbed one and the nearby bottle of syrup, he was chastised by the Canadian. "At least be useful, take this plate to Alfred!"

Grumbling, he started to nibble on the pancakes on his plate while picking up the other and slowly made his way upstairs. "Left or right?" he shouted through bites of food.

"Turn left, and don't you dare go into my room on the right!"

Frowning that he had probably just tempted the other, he ran out the kitchen and took a peek upstairs. Gilbert seemed to be trying to break down the locked door to Alfred's room, and even through all of this the American was still snoring. Somewhat relieved, he ran back and finished the last two.

Sneaking out one more time, he saw that Alfred had woken up and conceded to opening the door, anything for food. The door shut closed behind the two and Matthew assumed they were talking about games or something along those lines. At least Gilbert was trustworthy for now.

As he knocked on him mom's door, he found her in her bathrobe with her hair tied up. With a small pat on his head, she gratefully accepted the plate and retreated back into her room. It was a late work day today, and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.

Taking the last plate and an abnormal amount of maple syrup, probably only rivaled by Gilbert's, he made his way upstairs even though he didn't believe in walking and eating at the same time. However, he absolutely had to know what Gilbert and Alfred would be interested in. Knocking politely on the door, he waited for a response but there was none. Some shouting noises could be heard inside and he somehow hated his docileness again. Knocking just a bit harder, he expected no one to answer, and after deciding to try one more time by kicking it, the door suddenly swung open and he almost tripped. Almost.

* * *

><p>Gilbert had freaked out when he saw a falling Canadian, so he quickly leapt forward to steady him. In turn, Matthew felt the pancakes sliding off the plate so he panicked and attempted to reach his other hand to catch them. Since any food except Arthur's food could not be wasted, Alfred had lunged forward to try to help the mess the other two were in, but after some awkward footing, all three fell to the floor with a thud.<p>

"Crap, that was some really messed up version of twister!" the American moaned as he tried to disentangle himself.

"Are the pancakes safe?" Matthew tried to ask, but his face was buried into his brother's back.

"What did you say?" the German questioned while he tried to pry off Matthew's leg from his stomach.

Gasping for air, the Canadian shoved his brother away temporarily. "I said, are the pancakes okay?"

"Shit, that hurt bro!" Alfred squawked while fumbling around. He accidentally shifted his leg and soon his foot was in Gilbert's face.

"Get your fucking feet outta the way, they smell!" The albino was relatively thin, so he pulled himself out as much as he could with both brothers' weight on top of his legs. "Kesesese, I think your pancakes are freaking magical, they're still on the plate!"

"Oh, thank the holy maple god." Sine Alfred was only making things worse, the somewhat smaller two wiggled their way back upright. The pancakes were indeed still fully intact and on the plate, but the overload of syrup was on the floor. Sighing, the blond picked up the plate and said, "That's a waste, but really this was lucky."

While his brother and friend were busy arguing over whose fault it was (neither had the heart to blame Matthew for it), the Canadian scanned the room and his eyes rested on the computer screen. So they were playing a first person shooter game. He actually had played that one before, and no matter what Alfred claimed, his twin was actually the better one at it.

Eating the rest of his pancakes and knowing that both his secret was safe and that they had a penchant for videogames, Matthew made his way back downstairs.

* * *

><p>If Alfred knew about their little relationship, he didn't show it. All he did was scream at Gilbert and tell him to go away while begging Matthew to ignore Gilbert. Oh no. He was not falling for that trick again. However, the American had craftily avoided any mention of his twin's sexuality, but the Canadian felt he was giving his brother too much credit. It was all for the better, since if he asked, things might get messy for real, since everything seemed too turbulent between Alfred and Gilbert despite what Francis said.<p>

Matthew had safely made it to school on the bus. He had made a point of leaving earlier with Gilbert, since Alfred was still in his pajamas and had hardly gotten ready yet. However, he kept on sending worried glances over to Gilbert, who was still hardly wearing anything outside one layer of clothing. It was okay in the bus but what the moment they stepped outside it would be cold.

After they had left and had barely walked a couple of feet away, the Canadian gave up and stopped in the middle of the path as other students milled around them. Pulling his red hoodie off, he glared at Gilbert while the German was giving him a bemused expressions. However, he widened his crimson eyes when he felt the article of clothing being forced over head.

"Holy—what are you—"

"Merde, just put it on! It's cold!" The Canadian was struggling fiercely against the older boy, trying to wrestle the sweatshirt on him.

"But you need it don't—" his face contorted into laughter once he saw what Matthew was wearing under the hoodie. Finally relenting, Gilbert allowed himself to put it on. He was still choking with laughter that someone would actually wear a sweater under a sweatshirt, and it was one of those really plain looking ones that he saw Arthur wear.

Blushing furiously, Matthew snapped, "Birthday present from Arthur, and don't you dare take that off unless you find something else to put on."

Oh. Well that explained its uncanny resemblance the to Brit's clothes. The albino still felt the need to complain, so he pseudo-whined, "Mein gott, now I look more like a Canadian than a real Canadian! Look at this freaking maple leaf on the back!" Craning his head backwards he tried to see the decoration he always saw while staring at Matthew.

"Shut it, Gil."

They made their way to their first class together, amidst a sea of whispers.

* * *

><p>It was a relatively pleasant and normal morning, and Matthew found himself at the back of his history class doodling in a notebook. This class he shared with both Lovino and Arthur; apparently the latter was behind in history for the very same reason his friend was. They were learning about U.S. history and both boys shared their sentiments on how much they hated the America-centric subject. Nevertheless, Arthur made a decent but not great grade while Matthew was just scraping by.<p>

Luckily for Matthew, even Arthur seemed to want to doze off as the teacher droned on about politics. Quietly tearing a sheet of paper out, he folded it and scribbled on it.

_Hey, do you want to come over today? Alfred won't bother you. I hope. _

Jabbing the person in front of him, he whispered, "Lars? Hey Lars, give that to Arthur will you?" They were conveniently two seats away from each other, with the Canadian's odd friend in the middle.

The Dutch turned around and deadpanned, but he picked up the paper and slapped it onto Arthur's desk. Somewhat surprised, the green-eyed boy glanced back and saw Matthew wave. Scowling slightly, but only slightly, he looked up to see that the teacher was practically boring himself with the lecture and wasn't paying attention, so he scratched out a reply and tossed the note backwards.

_Why are you passing notes in class? I thought you knew better. Sure, but if that wanker shows his face, I'm going to kill him. _

Shaking his head in return, he mouthed "you won't do it" while Arthur scowled harder.

_You won't text in class, this was the next best thing to do. Do you know where Gilbert lives? _

This time, it was Arthur's turn to give a look of pity.

_Have you, dear sweet Matthew, actually resorted to stalking people? Actually, I do not know, but I think either of our oh-so-sweet Italian brothers or the frog should know very well._

The Canadian flushed a deep red when read the note, but then furiously replied.

_No, I'm not a stalker! Francis took me to Gilbert's house once and I forgot how to get there. And he walked here this morning, I'm wondering if it's far._

Lars had tossed the note to Arthur, then added a comment, "If you two are going to exchange love letters, you can request a seat change since I don't want to pass notes forever." The Canadian hit his friend disapprovingly while Arthur made a point of tossing the paper over the Dutch boy's head.

_Yes, yes, of course. I'm sure it isn't, the frog practically lives only ten minutes away from you and if he bothers to visit on a daily basis, it would probably be within a kilometer or so. I see you're wearing my wonderful birthday present?_

Matthew could practically hear the sarcasm in the other's accent, but he decided to stop and stuck his tongue out. Sometimes even the more reasonable people could act a bit childish.

* * *

><p>When lunch had started, he followed Lovino to the lunch table again while Arthur claimed he had something to do. Matthew took a glance around to table to see how many people he could name. Surprisingly, all were familiar. Starting on his left and moving clockwise around the table, the people he could name were Elizaveta, who had taken the liberty to scoot a little closer to him probably to ask how much progress he had made; Feliciano and Ludwig, since the Italian was practically on top of the German; Heracles, who was sleeping soundly; Francis, who was apparently waiting for Arthur, Gilbert, or Antonio to drop by; Yao, a junior who was looking disapprovingly at some of the lunch trays; Im Yong Soo, a Korean freshman who seemed to be set on bothering his Chinese companion; and the very Lovino Vargas who was currently not pleased at all. The Italian was moody since apparently neither Antonio nor Bella was there to accompany him. The Belgian girl was apparently some distant cousin of Lars and acquainted with Antonio and Lovino, but Matthew had failed to see her yet.<p>

"Fucking stop 'cuddling' with the potato bastard," he snapped finally at his sniveling brother, who buried his face deeper into a flustered Ludwig's chest.

"Ve, but _fratello_ I don't want to, Luddy is nice!"

And to Matthew's surprise, Alfred had dropped down in the space between him and Lovino. "Hey bro, you know these guys?"

"Well, I was here yesterday if that's considered long enough."

"Duh, I'm not blind or anything," the American said while rolling his eyes. Shouting across the rather noisy table, he asked, "Kiku, can I come over for games?"

The Japanese boy looked unsure but hesitantly gave a nod. "Hai, but may Im Yong Soo-san come over too? He says he has a good Korean game."

At the mention of his name, the hyperactive Asian yelled, "I'm coming over with a good game, Aniki, since videogames originated in South Korea, da-ze!"

"Hai… Alfred-san, please excuse him for his—"

"Whoa, no problem there, I just know with my freedom sense that this guy Yong-soup guy is awesome!" the blond said while flashing a bright smile and sticking out his fist.

The favor was returned when the Asian jumped up and bumped fists with Alfred. "Hey Albert, brofists originated in South Korea, da-ze!"

It was lost on both of them that they had gotten each other's names wrong, but at this point no one even cared anymore.

Arthur suddenly came running in panting, with a panicked expression on his face. Francis raised an eyebrow, but then he saw Antonio come over from a different direction.

"_Hola amigos_!" Lovino had jumped the Spaniard and started to scream, but Matthew ignored them and asked Arthur what was wrong.

"Oh, I—bloody hell, I'm going to be dead before the week's over!" the Brit wailed.

Alfred snorted and said, "Nope, if you die you'd come back to haunt me."

Surprisingly, Arthur ignored the comment and continued, "Both of my cousins are transferring to this school. On different sides of the family, but—oh the gits, the both of them, they absolutely _hate_ me!"

"Cousins? You have cousins?" the Canadian asked curiously.

At this Francis was strangely quiet for once, and seemed thoughtful. Yao frowned a bit from the side and turned away, only to find the Frenchman thinking.

"Yes I bloody do, and they're my living nightmares," the blond bemoaned. "As if the frog and idiot weren't bad enough."

"I thought you hated your brothers more than anything," the American remarked for once without insulting the other.

"Them too, yes, but they are thankfully all older than me and in college, with the exception of Peter, who is still in secondary school. My cousins are my bloody age, and might be in my classes. I may as well buy a coffin now."

"_Mon cher Angleterre_, do you by any chance mean _cheri_ Angelique for one?" Francis spoke up.

Paling a bit, he stuttered back, "B-bonnefoy, you actually know her?"

Nodding in return, he smirked to see what the Brit's reaction would be. It was not what he expected.

"O-oh, well would—bloody hell, I'll let you off a beating once if you can distract her for me!" Arthur attempted to offer.

"_Quoi_?" the sophomore asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Er, well, you know, do what frogs do best. Enchant princesses?"

Widening his eyes in realization, the Frenchman chuckled. "You want me to woo your cute little cousin so she doesn't kill you, oui? I would be glad to take up that offer even without a price, she has beautiful legs and who knows what's—"

"Sh-shut up frog, just don't get to the details!" the sandy blond panicked uncharacteristically.

Matthew questioned his friend, "How much does she hate you that you're willing to negotiate with Francis to save yourself?"

The Brit shuddered. "I don't bloody know, when we were little she had some sort of a crush on me, then apparently I 'broke her heart' and now she's out for my blood. I didn't even know she was interested in me that way, I was bloody three when I first saw her!"

"And who is your lucky other cousin?" Elizaveta asked, probably hoping for a boy for more action. "Oh, and is he gay?" she very indiscreetly added for good measure.

Arthur choked a bit, and Yao shifted in his seat. Kiku was silent, while Im Yong Soo and Alfred were hitting it off. "No, I don't think he's gay."

The Hungarian's disappointment showed but she persisted, at least knowing she could try to bend a straight boy. "Well, who is he? You didn't answer."

"I think I can answer that, aru. He's my cousin too," the Chinese junior dropped suddenly.

The brunette whipped her head around quickly, eyes as wide as saucers. "Does he look like you? Only with giant eyebrows?"

The Brit stiffened at the indirect insult, but then supplied, "He's always looked more like the Asian side on his family."

Yao frowned and said, "Aiyah, he really has thick eyebrows. Not as thick as Kirkland's but still pretty thick for us." He sighed wistfully. "It was fun remembering the old days, aru. Me and the British boy argued over who got to play with our cute cousin. Too bad he didn't like either of us…"

Arthur was blushing, and he quietly said, "Yes, I did tease him a bit and didn't let Yao play with him. Because Yao wouldn't let me try his family tea when we were little!"

The Chinese boy glared and snapped, "You were little and clumsy, you would have broken my porcelain tea set!"

"Bloody hell, what were you, like nine while I was seven? I had been drinking my own tea for three years!"

Alfred stopped and commented, "You people are weird, drinking tea when you're only like, four."

The Hungarian no longer paid attention as she drooled over the many possible available boys she could hook this kid up with. "Who would he look good with," she mumbled.

"Well, it's not fair you bribed me with candy, aru! I didn't even care about anything but candy!" Yao shot back at the Englishman.

"That's your own bloody fault for getting so addicted to it!"

Francis felt the need to interrupt and commented, "We still don't know his beautiful name, non?"

Arthur scowled and said with probably purposeful mispronunciation, "Jia Long. Or Wang Jia Long as these Chinese people say." Yao scoffed but said nothing.

Everyone else had long tuned out or had gone on with their own conversations, and all the while only Matthew was worried about where Gilbert had went. Quickly getting up, he made his way out of the cafeteria. Alfred would finish whatever food he hadn't finished, but he had a nagging feeling in his gut that he needed to see Gilbert right now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Lol yes, crappy Opium war references and I like torturing poor Artie. I'm pretty sure Seychelles does hate him though, and I put Arthur being cousins with Hong Kong and Hong Kong cousins with Yao… it barely makes sense but it'll have to do. About HK hating England, I'm just putting it there for good measure, since he was a bit of a bully. Worry not, he does not hate England that much, just wants to drive the poor Brit crazy. xD

That really weird tripping scene... popped into my head. I apologize for any excess gayness that exuded but since you are reading a gay couple fic I assume you don't mind. xD

South Korea asked for America's help in the war, so I assume they should be good friends.

Where are the Nordics in this chapter, or any other character that hasn't appeared yet? Worry not, they will come soon. :3

And I have decided to stop posting these next chapter spoilers since I always end up not following them. Stupid head! Dx

Review :D If you post a pairing you somewhat like, I'll try to incorporate a teeny tiny bit of interaction in the story. (i.e. I ship PruCan and USUK but I like UKCan as well, so I'm planning to go somewhere with this. I don't ship RusAme, but they interact quite interestingly, so I plan to do something with that. And the FrUK moments are self-explanatory.) Yes, even with the characters I already paired, I will post tiny moments to at least somewhat please you. :p All I ask is don't… ship something absurd. (Like Estonia and a computer… it made me laugh but I am appalled at the idea of something actually like this.)


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